


Sirensong

by iwtv



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Physical Abuse, as they should be, borderline non-con, i shamelessly use show quotes don't judge me, james and max are the gayest gay friends, slow burn to a kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-05-19 11:39:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14873078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwtv/pseuds/iwtv
Summary: Sex worker!Flint au is here!New governor Thomas Hamilton arrives at Nassau to help legitimize it and is introduced to one of Max's prostitutes--James Flint. But a bitter Woodes Rogers has his own plans for Nassau and the new governor.Please forgive any historical inaccuracies. #i tried





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A BIG thanks to @jamesmcgrawflinthamilton on tumblr for the original idea for this fic, as well as her continuous inspiration and beta reading! Thanks bean. <333

_Portsmouth, 1688_

\-------

James stood next to his sailing brothers on the dock, doing his best to stand tall with them. Their names were announced out loud by the admiral himself, with their new title first.

Edward stood next to him, sliding him a smile as his name was spoken.

"And Midshipman McGraw," Admiral Hennessey announced at last, offering him a warm smile and a handshake. James tried not to beam, practicing a more adult countenance as he proudly accepted his promotion. He turned his excitement to Edward instead, meeting Edward's soft blue eyes and watching as a gust from the ocean blew inky-black strands of hair across his face.

"Congratulations," Hennessey said, "You are all one step closer to becoming officers in Her Majesty’s Navy, God willing."

The rest of the crew cheered them, giving them slaps on the back and teasing them light-heartedly.

"I know you are all tired of hearing my sea tales and myths," said Hennessey next, "But I trust you will humor me on this special occasion. Some of you lettered crew members may be familiar with the ancient Greeks and their mythologies. Many of their stories relate to the sea and have been re-told by mariners for hundreds of years. One such tale is that of the Sirens.

A man named Odysseus, as part of a long journey, needed to pass by an island full of Sirens--woman-like creatures whose singing was so seductive to sailors that they could never resist, and would be lured to their doom on the jagged rocks. Odysseus was forewarned of the Sirens and told to plug his men's ears with beeswax so they would not hear the songs. But Odysseus was a curious man. He wanted very much to hear the Sirens, so he bade his men to tie him tightly to the mast of the ship so that he may hear them without consequence. But even tied to the mast Odysseus could barely resist the creatures' call; songs promising to reveal the future. Odysseus is so overcome he begs the crew to release him from his fetters so that he may answer their call, but his faithful men only bind him tighter.

Odysseus and his ship make it past the Siren's island. Some versions of the story claim that the Sirens were so distraught that a man was able to hear them and elude them that they threw themselves into the sea and drowned."

At this point the admiral was looking each of them in the eye. A respectful silence had come over everyone on the dock. Hennessey glanced at James, hands behind his back, as he continued.

"One strong lesson we, as modern sailors, can take from such a tale is the value of discipline and of restraint. As midshipman, you will all have moments of conflict in your duties, though you will still need to think fast and accurately. These are the moments that will help define you, both as a man and as a sailor. Odysseus knew discipline. He knew that no matter what he heard he must not be tempted and acted accordingly. As officers in Her Majesty's Navy I expect the same level of discipline and restraint, of knowing when you should issue an order and what order should be issued..."

When at last Hennessey had finished they were all dismissed to go back to preparing their ship for departure. It wasn't until early evening James found himself alone with Edward, in a storage hold below decks. As soon as the door was shut James went to him, threading his fingers past Edward's cheeks and into that inky-black hair, but their lips never touched.

Edward pulled away, gently but firmly removing James's hands from his face.

"James, we cannot see each other like this anymore."

"What? Have you been drinking honey wine?"

"I'm serious."

Edward pulled away again and James stilled, feeling as though something were sinking in his gut.

"What are you saying?"

"Look, you heard Hennessey today. We are midshipman now; serious sailors. We must resist the call of the siren. We are no longer boys, James. We...we need to put this infatuation behind us and move on."

James blinked, taken aback.

"Infatuation?"

He repeated the word, feeling as though he were sucking on a dirty coin. Edward was not simply an...infatuation.

Edward frowned softly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But that's all it was, James. You must realize this. Now, I need to get back. I shall...see you later."

And Edward left. James stared at the door after him, scarcely believing. He blinked back the tears in his eyes. How stupid, how foolish of him. He repeated the word 'infatuation' over and over again, until it finally stopped tasting so bad. By the time he had straightened himself and left the hold, he knew that it had just been an infatuation. Nothing more.

He repeated it to himself in his hammock that night, squeezing his eyes shut until it ached and there was only black.

*

_Nassau, 1715_

\-------

James Flint eyed his opponent with a steady gaze. Charles Vane eyed him back, another plume of smoke escaping his mouth from his cheroot.

“You just going to fuck me with your eyes or show your cards already?” he gruffed out. The corner of James’s lips twitched up. He laid out his cards on the table. Vane slammed a fist over the table.

“Fuck!”

James gathered his newfound coin to his side of the table, thoroughly enjoying Vane’s sore losing skills.

“It’s not as if you didn’t win last time,” he said.

“The last _two_ times,” said Vane, flashing a pair of fingers in his face.

James’s smile didn’t falter. He picked at a coin. “Except you didn’t win _this_ much either time.”

Vane eyed him as though he wanted blood. One of his men spoke from the bar just behind them.

“I’ll play a round with ye, captain.”

Vane waved the offer away and frowned. From the man’s lap Charlotte reached out and touched James’s shoulder.

“James is a natural strategist,” she said, beaming at him. The man grabbed her arm possessively.

“’Ey now, he ain’t paid for you for the last hour!”

James and Charlotte shared a smirk between them.

“Trust me, Bradford, he isn’t interested,” said Vane. James looked at him again and this time he did look at Vane as though he were fucking him with his eyes. Vane gave him a half-cocked smile.

Just then there was a chorus of commotion from the front of the brothel. The madame had walked in, already surrounded by a group of people.

“Here we go,” said Vane, turning in his chair. “News at last.”

Max’s voice rose above the den, quieting everyone down. She moved to stand in the center of the room.

“Your attention please. I’ve just received word that our new governor is on his way here. It is to be Lord Thomas Hamilton, son of the Earl of Ashbourne, and _not_ Woodes Rogers.”

That garnered another round of noise and surprise. James huffed out a laugh.

“I’ll be damned,” he muttered.

“No shit,” said Vane. Before they could start commenting on that bit of information Max raised her voice again.

“However, Mr. Rogers is to be traveling here with Lord Hamilton as his personal advisor.”

Another round of chatter. Vane chewed on the end of his cheroot. James fidgeted with a coin on the table. Behind them Charlotte bounded off her man’s lap and eagerly joined the other sex workers. Idelle spoke up.

“Which one of us gets to be the first to him?” she asked Max. They all giggled.

“That has yet to be determined,” Max answered, giving them a frowning smile. Her eyes swept the room and seemed to land on James for a second. James blinked. Had that been intentional? Usually if they were in public it meant Max wished to speak to him privately about something.

The governor’s arrival had been the talk of the town for weeks now, made more dramatic by the fact that no one knew who would win out in England. Woodes Rogers had already established himself as a capable and productive servant of the crown in matters of sea faring and squashing piracy but it was widely known he was greatly in debt. Even James knew the crown would frown on this. Thomas Hamilton, on the other hand, had little to no worldly experience but incredible influence and no debt. As more information on the two men circulated Nassau had grown more anxious.

The unspoken concern that all shared, of course, was how friendly either man would be to Nassau’s reason for existing and its source of monetary gain: the pirates. Directly related to that was the question of how easy it would be to buy the new governor to keep the peace.

Now, with the announcement that it was not to be Rogers taking up residence in the old mansion in the center of town, James was relieved. Though he could make no postulation on Hamilton, his gut instinct told him that Rogers would have been no friend at all to the pirates, who were the brothel’s—and therefore his—main source of income.

“Well let’s hope he’s no worse than Rogers,” said Vane, expressing James’s next thought.

“Better get all your ships careened while you still can, just in case,” said James. “How long has it been anyway since you last tipped them? Six months? Eight months?”

Vane grunted in response. He put out his cheroot and dropped it into the dregs of his rum pitcher.

“See you next time, Flint,” he said, then jerked his head at Bradford. The two pirates left. James collected his winnings into a pouch and discreetly slipped it into his belt.

“James.”

James looked up. Max was standing on the stairs leading up to the rooms, jerking her head towards them. James rose and followed her, away from the constant noise of the tavern downstairs.

They met in her office behind closed doors.

“You know _mon cher,_ if the wrong man sees you with a pouchful of gambling money I’ll wind up paying for yet another doctor’s visit.”

“For me or for him?” James grinned smugly at her.

“James, please, I do not need you to gain a reputation as someone dangerous. Believe it or not, there are still people on this island who do care that you are a sex worker who enjoys the company of women _and _men. I do what I can to protect you, but do not forget I am still only a woman to them.”__

__James came up behind Max as she sat down in her chair and began massaging her shoulders. Max let out a sigh, her body sagging._ _

__“You worry too much,” he said. “The only man giving me trouble is hopefully dead drunk somewhere and vomiting up his lunch.”_ _

__Max turned her head to catch his eye, her concern for him obvious. It always touched him when she showed it because she did so well to hide it from everyone. Except him._ _

__“Has there been another incident?” she asked._ _

__James shook his head. “No. I was only saying.”_ _

__He felt his own shoulders tensing at the thought of Ducat. To say that he was frightened of the man wasn’t entirely accurate, but there was always that sense of dread that filled him whenever Ducat came to the brothel. He only had eyes for James, and those eyes were as cold and unfeeling as the man himself._ _

__Max relaxed again at his response._ _

__“Good. You know I will charge him double or even triple if he lays a hand on you again. I wish I could do more—”_ _

__James shook his head, fingers kneading down below her neck, thumbs making small circles._ _

__“Do not,” he said. “There is nothing to be done about it. It’s simply a fact of life.”_ _

__Max’s turned fully to look at him. His hands dropped back to their sides._ _

__“You should not speak so low about yourself,” she said softly._ _

__James looked out the window and shrugged. He never understood why she said things like that to him. He was, after all, a sodomite. The fact that he was not an asshole like Ducat did little to change the fact that the outside world would have seen him hanged by now._ _

__“What about this new governor,” he said to change the subject._ _

__“Ah, yes,” said Max. “The reason I called you up here. I have been told by my second informant, who is very good at getting “unofficial” information, that Lord Hamilton is not particularly taken with women. That he is, if the rumors are to be believed, one of your kind.”_ _

__James raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”_ _

__Max nodded, a smile ghosting her lips as she leaned back into her chair._ _

__“Yes. And before you ask, my informant is highly reliable and usually right.”_ _

__James snorted. “As if there was any other kind in your employ. You are all-seeing and all-knowing, madame.”_ _

__He liked to tease her with flattery and despite her words to the contrary it was clear she enjoyed it. It was the least he could do for her after all Max had done for him._ _

__“So,” she continued, still grinning from his flattery, “I will find out if this information is accurate once the governor arrives and if it is, you, _mon cher,_ are poised to make a nice amount coin for yourself and for this place.”_ _

__James echoed her smile. He left her office, feeling the same air of excitement as the rest of the brothel did. Everyone was still chattering about the governor as he crossed the balcony to the back of the building and into his own personal room. He slept that night wondering what type of man the governor would be, especially if he was so inclined. James was forced to consider that he may be a man like Ducat, rough and even brutal in the bedroom. He hoped that was not the case. Sodomite or not, James had decided there was only so much he was willing to take from clientele._ _

__He was relieved when Idelle and Charlotte crept into his room later, chatting excitedly about Hamilton’s inclinations. It never failed to amaze him how quickly they could root out information from the madame. They were her most trusted girls, however, and James knew that this potentially scandalous piece of information wouldn’t leave his bedroom. He slept fitfully that night, his mind full._ _

__*_ _

__“You’re late.”_ _

__Billy Bones was already panting when he burst through the doors and flopped down at the small round table across from him._ _

__“I know,” Billy huffed out. “I’m sorry. There was a problem on the ship with some rigging and—”_ _

__He stopped when he saw the tiny smile on James’s face. Billy caught his breath._ _

__“You think I was desperate to get here, is that it?” he asked. One of his brows raised up in a way that James always found pleasing, especially because Billy wasn’t afraid to look him in the eye._ _

__“I didn’t say that,” said James. Billy’s gaze changed imperceptibly, except to James, who recognized the lust there. They left the table and went upstairs to a room. Billy took off the drab-colored sack strapped to his baldric and opened it._ _

__“Found this on our last prize. English ship. Though you’d like it.”_ _

__It was a book. He handed it to James._ _

__“Ah. A History of Naval Warfare. Thank you.”_ _

__He did like it. Billy often brought him trinkets or books like this from prizes. James also considered the stolen gifts as nice ‘fuck you’s' to England and gladly accepted them._ _

__Being with Billy was always enjoyable. He’d gained some experience since the first time he’d come to James and it showed. He knew how to take him and set up a pace, but he also wasn’t afraid to shift positions._ _

__Though there was no rule about fucking, James had never encountered a male client who wanted to face him while doing it. And that was, he knew, just as preferable to him as it was to them._ _

__Billy liked having his cock sucked more than anything, but if he wanted to fuck he preferred taking James from behind while lying on the bed on his side. James sucked him down for a while, until Billy’s cock was as flushed as his face. The sight was secretly beautiful to James. He pulled on his own cock as his mouth slid up and down Billy’s hard shaft. Billy was also the only male client that made James feel as though he were allowed take pleasure as much as he gave it._ _

__“Oh fuck yea,” Billy breathed out now. He gently held James’s head as James took him down and pulled off. Billy pushed on his head and James took him down all the way, fucking his cock as best he could while Billy gasped and moaned above him. When he needed air he pulled off. The sight of Billy’s cock, red and slick, hit the pit of his stomach and made him hot._ _

__“Look at you,” said Billy, holding James by the jaw as James slid his lips over the side of Billy’s long shaft._ _

__“Stand up,” said Billy._ _

__James did so. Billy took both their cocks in his massive fist and rubbed them hard against one another. There was something about this move that aroused James the most with Billy—and made him uncomfortable. Once he’d looked at Billy in the eye for a few seconds too long as they stood so close together and Billy had quickly looked away. James had felt the red-hot shame hit his face. He’d wanted to kiss Billy but that was ludicrous._ _

__So now they avoided eye contact, with Billy staring down at their cocks and James staring at other parts of Billy he liked: the scruff of a beard on his strong jawline, the powerful muscles that rippled all over his arms and his thick thighs, and the way his nipples were long peaks when he was aroused._ _

__Verbally, of course, he only ever spoke of liking Billy’s ass or cock, perhaps his nipples. And Billy spoke in kind._ _

__“Oh fuck, your cock is so fucking perfect,” he was panting out now as he used their precum to smear down James’s shaft. James shuddered all over at the sensation. Yes, Billy was enjoyable._ _

__Their session ended when James made him come from another blowjob and a finger in his ass._ _

__“It’s been too long since I’ve fucked you,” said Billy before he left, “So I’ll be back after our next hunt.”_ _

__He eyed James devilishly as he handed over his coin._ _

__“Better save yourself for some of those jealous wenches,” James teased him. The image flitted through his mind of kissing Billy good-bye._ _

__Billy smirked at him. “You fiend, you. See you in a few weeks.”_ _

__He turned and left. James sat back down on the bed and drank from the pitcher of water on the table. He counted out his coins and added them to his pouch. He’d saved up nearly enough money for a good pair of leather boots he’d been wanting for some time. During their sessions Billy often stripped down but put his boots back on if he wanted to fuck him standing up. It was a kink. Everyone had one._ _

__James decided Ducat might appreciate the same type of boot, if for no other reason than he would stop whispering to James that he was a pussy he liked to fuck. Ducat’s terms of endearment notwithstanding, more than one time he’d nearly told Ducat if he wanted to fuck a pussy he was barking up the wrong tree, but he knew that would only earn him a beating._ _

__Still, he often fantasized saying it anyway and imagining Ducat’s face, baffled and unbelieving before it turned angry. He was grateful he’d never have to worry about that with Billy._ _

__There was a light rapping at his door as James was finishing dressing._ _

__“Come.”_ _

__It was Idelle._ _

__“Got two ladies downstairs waiting for you,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Unless ol’ Billy Bones has worn you out. The body on that one, Christ!”_ _

__James chuckled. “Idelle, I’m not telling you about our encounter…”_ _

__“Oh please!” she begged with wide eyes. “He’s so handsome! And try as I might, he doesn’t want any woman!”_ _

__James made to leave the room but Idelle blocked him._ _

__“Tell me later, or I’ll hound you about it all week!” she insisted._ _

__“All right, all right! Later,” he agreed. He planted his hands on her shoulder and scooted her aside, kissing her brow as he left._ _


	2. Chapter 2

Anticipation over the new governor remained heavy in the air the next few days. At last a small fleet of ships was spotted on the horizon. James found himself wondering more and more about the man. Hamilton signaled a large change that was about to take place in New Providence. James could only hope it was for the better. If he attempted to rid the place of pirates there would be discord and perhaps even a battle or two. That would also bring in the British Navy, whom he had no desire to see ever again.

His rejection by the navy still stung, even after all these years.

Shaking old wounds away, he decided he ought to tidy up his room a bit. And if the governor was indeed like him James figured Max would want him to be dressed better than his usual garb of simple trousers and shirt. He dug through his dresser until he found his only pair of good trousers and a dark maroon shirt and nice belt. He laid them on top.

He spent the rest of his day off at the markets, using his coin to purchase some things he’d been meaning to buy for a while: a small bottle of cheap cologne (a requirement of Max’s, since the ladies all wore perfume when working), a new earring, a new razor for his beard, and at last his new boots, shiny and black.

*

Lord Thomas Hamilton gazed out at the growing land mass that was New Providence Island as the fleet grew closer.

It was nearly dark. They would probably stay the night on the ship and disembark in the morning. Thomas was still too far away to make out more than a hint of civilization on the island—a few tall buildings and some smaller ships clustered around what must be the harbor—but he wondered about the people there. He felt another tingle of anticipation as he flexed his fingers and clasped them over the railing.

“There’s a storm brewing to the east.”

Thomas tried not to frown at the sound of Woodes Roger’s voice as he appeared beside him, also looking out at the island. Thomas glanced eastward. The sky was a mass of stone-colored clouds.

“We’ll be in the harbor well before it reaches us,” he replied.

“For _this_ storm, yes,” said Rogers.

The dramatic flair irked Thomas as he turned to face him. He eye fell to the purplish scar on Roger’s right cheek, which was more attractive to look at than his cold eyes.

“Mr. Rogers, I do hope you don’t intend on remaining a pain in my ass once we’re settled in Nassau.”

Rogers smirked at him.

“As your advisor I do not see how to avoid it, if I am to excel at my job, which I fully intend to do, my lord.”

Thomas turned from the railing to go back into his cabin. Unfortunately Rogers was following him.

“I wish for you to excel at your job,” Thomas said with measured patience once they reached the door, “but I’m no fool, sir. You’re bitter over losing this position to me and you do little to hide the fact. Frankly I don’t care. But if you attempt to undermine me in any way once we reach that shore, I’ll not tolerate it.”

Roger’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He studied Thomas for a moment. Thomas hoped to God the man would be cooperative. No such luck.

“Was that a threat?” Rogers asked, standing taller. “We haven’t even made it to your new throne yet and already you’re in a mood. My, my.”

Then he simply turned and left, hands clasped behind his back as he smiled and nodded at the crew scuttling about the ship.

Thomas went into his cabin and slammed the door shut.

“Christ,” he muttered. He’d known his fair share of men with Rogers' pre-disposition for arrogance and all that came with it, yet he’d never had to work so closely with such a man before. Unless one counted his father as belonging to that group, which Thomas most certainly did. The old man had spent most of his life trying to take credit away from Thomas in most every accomplishment he made. Thomas had already vowed that Alfred Hamilton would do no such thing in this case. This was going to be _his_ island, and he would run it accordingly.

He awoke some time later to the steady pitter-patter of rain above him. He looked out the small square gun port and saw through the rain and the gray dawn a sandy shore. The ship was at anchor. The storm had arrived as Rogers had said, but he’d gotten here first.

*

A welcoming party was sent out into town to make certain all was well for his arrival. Thomas was quite aware of the pirate presence in the area and knew they needed to make certain it was safe. When the all clear came he and Rogers disembarked from the docks with a handful of servants behind them with luggage. The rain had not let up, forcing them all to wear rain slicks. Despite the weather Thomas saw that a fair-sized crowd had gathered to see their new governor as he left the docks and stepped onto dry land. Well, it was not dry currently.

His name and title were announced as they passed through. Thomas took off his tricorne and nodded politely at the crowd to his left and right.

“You’re getting soaked, my lord,” Rogers said beside him in a less-than-approving tone.

Still smiling and nodding, Thomas replied, “I’m making certain we are not seen as assholes. Public relations, Rogers. You should try it.”

When Rogers failed to act Thomas nudged him hard in the ribs with an elbow. Rogers took off his hat with a muttered ‘fuck’ under his breath. Thomas smiled wider, lifting a hand to wave behind him as he passed the crowd.

The people’s appearance—aside from wet—varied widely, though generally they wore less clothing than he was used to in the cooler clime of England and their faces were a mixture of suspicious and simply curious, he thought. That was to be expected in a fledgling colony in what was practically the wilderness of the West Indies.

The governor’s mansion, when they arrived, was sparsely furnished and dusty, but quite large and promising. It would take some fixing up but Thomas had plenty of extra men hired from London with him for just such a task. After he’d found the master bedroom and had changed into a dry and fresh set of clothes he wondered around the mansion, curious—until he ran into Rogers.

“I think I shall go exploring,” he said, “and locate the businesses. The sooner I can make acquaintances the better.”

“Very well, my lord, though I would recommend you take at least two guards with you just in case.”

“I shall take two unarmed men with me,” Thomas corrected. “And a small pistol for myself. The members of our naval escort are already scattering about the town to announce our arrival. I’ll be fine.”

Rogers blinked. “We are surrounded by savages, my lord. You do not yet know this place. It would be best if—”

Thomas let out an audible sigh. “They are not savages, Mr. Rogers, they are people struggling on the fringes of civilization. I want them to be able to trust me, which is unlikely to happen if I appear to be a bully here to enforce my will upon them.”

Rogers smirked at him again. “Forgive me, my lord, but isn’t that exactly what you are here to do?”

It was a real struggle this time for Thomas not to sneer at him.

“I hope you found your chosen room to your liking?” he asked instead.

Rogers gave him a long look and Thomas saw another smart retort building, but then Rogers simply nodded and said, “I did, my lord.”

“Very well.”

Thomas turned on his heel, calling to two of his men as he did so, feeling more than happy to leave Rogers behind for now.

*

It was a few hours later that Thomas found himself walking inside the island’s only brothel house. He’d ended up spending more time than he’d intended on discussing the island’s current economic state and the status of its only fort with several of the island’s oldest and most knowledgeable citizens. The former was doing well (thanks to the pirates) and the latter was in bad need of repairs.

The pirate issue was a thorny one and the men he’d spoken to had been reluctant to talk about them. Thomas had to assure them that he was not here to eradicate them—or their allies—from the island and that instead he wished to work with them and gradually re-introduce them into legitimate society. This seemed to be a great relief to all of them.

He was considering that a small daily victory when it became impossible to ignore the goings-on of the brothel house next door. There were several wenches outside, calling out to men passing by, most of whom were tempted inside the open doors of the establishment. Thomas considered waiting until tomorrow evening to pay a visit. He was feeling tired from his day, and hefrom past experience he knew he often had to spend a great deal of time convincing the workers of such places that he had no interest in their sport. He hid under the guise of being a “true” gentleman, though on occasion he also told them he had a lady in waiting back home.

That excuse would not work now, however, not if he was to live here. He needed to meet the madame of the house regardless. One of the men he’d spoken to earlier had informed him that she wielded the most power in Nassau owing to the fact that she had “eyes and ears everywhere” as he had put it. Then he’d made a much more lewd comment regarding the madame’s physical appearance, which Thomas took to mean the madame was quite attractive.

All of this rather intrigued him, enough that despite his tiredness Thomas let the prostitutes outside lure him in. They perked up when they realized who he was, with his two men at his side. He politely declined their offers but did ask where he could find the madame. At that point a blonde woman pushed past the other girls, her eyes sharp.

“I’m Charlotte,” she said. “I can take you to Max, my lord.”

“Nice to meet you Charlotte. And thank you, I appreciate it.”

*

“Lord Hamilton, it is an honor and a pleasure to meet you,” said Max. She curtseyed before him.

Thomas inclined his head in kind. Well. The old man had not been exaggerating about the madame. There was an exotic beauty to her, including her voice and Creole accent. Yet she also exuded a charisma about her and looked him straight in the eye.

“Likewise, Madame Max,” said Thomas. “Please forgive me if I seem caught off guard. I am used to brothel owners being old white women.”

She cracked a toothy smile at that and Thomas smiled back.

They spoke a bit about the business of the brothel house and its clientele, which brought Thomas around to discussing the island’s inhabitants. Max had great insight on what types of people lived here, both good and bad. He also discovered her business acumen was as impressive as the woman herself.

“…And this brings me to my welcoming gift for you, my lord,” she said at length.

He’d been expecting as much.

Thomas smiled politely. “Ah. Before you go on, allow me to kindly say that while I appreciate the offer, I’m afraid I’m going to decline. I’m a very determined man, Ms. Max. And right now I’m focused totally on establishing my governorship here, with no time for such luxuries as women.”

A ghost of a smile touched Max’s lips.

“I understand, my lord. However, I was not going to offer one of my _ladies _to you.”__

__In the pause that followed her words Thomas slowly lifted an eyebrow at her. But Max didn’t flinch. Instead she walked over to the large double doors of her office and closed them. When she walked back to him she stood very close._ _

__“Forgive me, my lord, if I have been misinformed, but if you wish it, I am certain I have something much more to your particular taste, if you will allow. Have I been misinformed?”_ _

__She asked the question so innocently that Thomas couldn’t help the grin that crept up one side of his mouth. A good business acumen _and _she knew how to get what she wanted.___ _

____“You are quite the madame, madame,” he replied. “All right. You have my attention.”_ _ _ _

____*_ _ _ _

____Max had whispered something quick to Charlotte, who had for some reason remained standing outside the office doors when they stepped outside them again. Charlotte had nodded, turned and left while Max guided him upstairs where the rooms were. So. they had been expecting him here indeed._ _ _ _

____Thomas had told his men, who had also been waiting outside the door for him, to relax and enjoy themselves._ _ _ _

____“Please wait in here,” said Max, opening a door for him and him alone._ _ _ _

____It had been a while since he’d been inside a brothel room. As an unmarried lord certain things were expected of him in these less proper circles. So Thomas would go inside a room and pay extra to whatever girl had been given to him, the coin enough to cover for the girl’s silence or lies, whichever she would need, and then they would spend the next hour or two either talking or he would read._ _ _ _

____Now, however, Thomas was too intrigued to do more than stand and wait patiently. He didn’t have to wait long. The door opened and a man stepped inside, quickly closing the door behind him._ _ _ _

____Thomas inhaled sharply. The man looked at him and bowed deeply._ _ _ _

____“My lord,” he said in a deep voice._ _ _ _

____He was shorter than Thomas but more broadly built, with a fine beard of burnt orange hair and small sideburns. He had a strong jaw and piercing green eyes. His arms—naked to his elbows—were covered in the densest smattering of freckles Thomas had ever seen. Two rings graced his ring and small fingers, and he wore a single gold stud in his ear._ _ _ _

____He was fucking _breathtaking.__ _ _ _

____*_ _ _ _

____He was easy on the eyes, at least._ _ _ _

____That was James’s first impression of Lord Hamilton as he closed the door behind him. Tall with neat yellow hair and piercing blue eyes, though it was evident from his creamy skin he was used to England’s weather and society._ _ _ _

____He was dressed the way James imagined most lords dressed as well, with a silver longcoat, deep black breeches and white stockings, a cravat about his neck. Though as they appraised each other in those first few seconds, James found he had little desire to think Hamilton pretentious or any number of other derisive terms that might otherwise befit a nobleman. On the contrary, the man’s face as he gazed at him—at least it appeared to be—kind._ _ _ _

____Hamilton motioned for James to come closer. James did so._ _ _ _

____“And you are?” asked the lord._ _ _ _

____“Who do you want me to be?”_ _ _ _

____A little smile and a downward glance of those blue eyes._ _ _ _

____“I’d like you to be just you, if you don’t mind.”_ _ _ _

____“Flint,” James replied automatically._ _ _ _

____“Flint? Is that a given name or a last name?”_ _ _ _

____James blinked. “James Flint, sir. Forgive me.”_ _ _ _

____Hamilton waved away the apology._ _ _ _

____“It’s fine. And please, no formal titles.”_ _ _ _

____James nodded._ _ _ _

____“Now James, if you don’t mind telling me the rules.”_ _ _ _

____James blinked again. It had been some time since someone had asked that question. At least this lord wasn’t going to be aggressive, thank God. He threw out the image of another Ducat._ _ _ _

____“Anything goes, as long as it only involves parts of the body,” said James, “nothing unnatural. And no pissing. Also I don’t kiss on the mouth. And,” he added quickly, nearly forgetting as Thomas blinked at him with those blue eyes, “No physical abuse. The madame does not allow it.”_ _ _ _

____Something concerning shuttered over Hamilton’s eyes for a moment, as though this troubled him._ _ _ _

____“Is that something you have to worry about often?” he asked._ _ _ _

____“N-no. Not often.”_ _ _ _

____James bit down on his tongue, feeling foolish for stuttering. But Hamilton didn’t seem to notice, or mind._ _ _ _

____“Good. I would never do such things,” he replied. “Now, can I ask you to take off your clothes?”_ _ _ _

____Jesus, this man was so fucking polite. James was not used to it. Still he began stripping himself down, sitting on the bed to yank off his shoes, then jerking his shirt out from his pants…_ _ _ _

____“Slowly, please,” said Hamilton, raising a palm._ _ _ _

____Ah. So here it was. This one wanted to be seduced. He’d had seduced plenty of women before but never a man. He gave a lop-sided smile. This could be fun._ _ _ _

____James stood up and stepped close to the lord. He crossed his arms as he took hold of the edges of his shirt, very slowly and smoothly lifting it up, up, and over his head. He tossed the piece of clothing aside without looking. He stuck his thumbs in the tops of his pants, leaning to one side and pausing a moment as Hamilton’s eyes swept the expanse of his naked chest and waist, then to his shoulders and arms and back to his chest. Then the lord surprised him by walking around him. He ran a hand along the thick muscles of James’s arm and over his shoulder blade, then down his back and around to the front of his waist. There James sucked in a sharp breath as Hamilton’s fingers tickled over him._ _ _ _

____“More, please,” said the lord. James recognized the signs of lust beginning to invade his expression; the way his tongue flicked out to wet his lips, his pupils swollen black._ _ _ _

____James tugged down one side of his pants very deliberately, just above his balls, then the other side. He ran his palm over his hipbone and slid it down into his pants. Normally he would have made eye contact with a woman, asserted some sense of virility. But Lord Hamilton was a man, a _nobleman_ , so James did not._ _ _ _

____Until Lord Hamilton said, moments later, “Look at me.”_ _ _ _

____James raised his eyes and met those azure ones. As soon as he did he felt his cock stir. He strangled off a small grunt. How long had it been since he’d held another man’s gaze for anything other than a fleeting second or two?_ _ _ _

____He kept looking at Lord Hamilton as he pushed his trousers down further, until they slid the rest of the way down his hamstrings on their own. Then he kicked them off. Hamilton touched him again, running his palms down over each side of James’s chest, thumbs rubbing over his nipples. He looked at James through his eyelashes._ _ _ _

____“Touch me,” he said, voice dropping an octave._ _ _ _

____James found himself licking his lips, realizing he was full of anticipation. He still harbored some fear that Hamilton would turn into a beast once he was fully aroused, but that fear was a small one._ _ _ _

____Right now James was too preoccupied as he unfastened Hamilton’s breeches—damn, the fabric was expensive—and pulled out his cock. There was already blood pumping there, but after James stroked him a few times and rubbed both his thumbs over his cock-head the other man was fully erect._ _ _ _

____He felt confident enough to look down. A small groan escaped him at the sight of Hamilton’s cock, making his blood grow hotter._ _ _ _

____“Touch me with your lips.”_ _ _ _

____James looked up. The lord was still looking at him, actually _looking_ , like he wanted James badly. Encouraged and letting his small fear slip further away from him, James went to his knees. He took hold of the base of Hamilton’s cock and fisted it a few times, then wrapped his mouth around it and pushed down along his shaft._ _ _ _

____Hamilton let out an ‘oh’ sound and a moan. James worked him without much thought, too happy at the fact that he was also aroused and able to stroke himself with his other hand. Most of the men he’d encountered since working here didn’t care about his own pleasure, only theirs. Once James had come to recognize the signs of that in a new customer he simply shut down physically. He might have gotten hard, but more often than not he would find himself simply being used for another’s release._ _ _ _

____But, as with Billy, Hamilton let him touch himself. Even more surprising was when the lord stopped him, touching his shoulder and telling him to rise. James did so. Hamilton was panting slightly, his cheeks flushed and James found himself thinking how gorgeous they looked as the color faded into his milky skin._ _ _ _

____“Now touch yourself more,” said Hamilton._ _ _ _

____James took his cock in his hand, twisting his fist over it. Hamilton watched, eventually biting on his lower lip. Jesus, since when did men get off watching other men like this? He’d always heard men of high title were prone to being eccentric; he’d just never encountered one before._ _ _ _

____Hamilton caught his gaze, his pupils full black._ _ _ _

____“May I fuck you?”_ _ _ _

____James let out a deep rumble of laughter._ _ _ _

____“Forgive me, my lord,” he said, “but I’ve never had a man so fucking polite before.”_ _ _ _

____Hamilton laughed through his nose, then seemed to realize that James was, in fact, not joking._ _ _ _

____“Never?” he asked. That concerned look etched worry lines into his forehead again and James felt uncomfortable._ _ _ _

____“No. But to answer your first question, yes.”_ _ _ _

____Hamilton had him kneel on the center of the bed next. He climbed behind James and James felt fingers on his cleft._ _ _ _

____“Oh,” said Hamilton. “You are…already ready, I see.”_ _ _ _

____A shrug. He always oiled himself good before seeing a male client, especially before seeing Ducat. Most of the time they were too impatient to worry over foreplay; they just wanted a quick hole to fuck so James had to make certain he was always ready._ _ _ _

____The fact that Lord Hamilton had seemed ready to prepare him was…well, it was certainly something new._ _ _ _

____He felt the familiar pressure at his hole. He automatically fisted the sheets and braced himself, ready for the lord to start fucking him. Instead Hamilton slid his cock between his cleft, up and down, several times, then slid it underneath and over the sensitive skin between his hole and his balls._ _ _ _

____“Ohh…”_ _ _ _

____He bit off the noise._ _ _ _

____“Good?” Hamilton asked._ _ _ _

____“Y-yes,” said James, though why it mattered to Hamilton how it felt was beyond him. But Hamilton kept his rock-hard cock between his legs, sliding it back and forth, imitating the act itself, until James felt his eyes slip closed. He could get used to this politeness._ _ _ _

____At last Hamilton repositioned himself and very carefully pushed in. James relaxed, grateful for his care. Hamilton let out another soft moan as he worked himself inside James and oh fuck, did he feel good. James pushed back into it until Hamilton was snug inside him, reveling in the fill of his cock. When he did start to fuck him James was fully ready; there had scarcely been any burn._ _ _ _

____Two hands gripped either side of his hips—but they were for leverage and not brutality. As Hamilton fucked him James turned to look over his shoulder and _Christ_ what an image. Lord Hamilton was flushed even more, his jaw slack and eyes screwed shut as his hips thrusted. James moaned and pulled on himself, feeling his orgasm start to build. He waited until Hamilton came first, pulling out and spilling his seed on his back, then he allowed himself to come, spilling into his fist and over the sheets._ _ _ _

____They broke apart, cleaned, and dressed in relative silence, but when James finally turned to look at him Hamilton had a finger pressed to his lips, smiling at him._ _ _ _

____“Well, James, I must say I quite enjoyed you.”_ _ _ _

____James gave a small bow of his head._ _ _ _

____“I’m glad, my lord.”_ _ _ _

____“No titles, please, remember?”_ _ _ _

____James winced a little._ _ _ _

____“Of course. Apologies.”_ _ _ _

____“And you? Did you enjoy yourself?” Hamilton asked him._ _ _ _

____James hesitated, then let a smile slip. Surprised abounded with this one._ _ _ _

____“Yes, I did,” he answered._ _ _ _

____“Good. Here then.”_ _ _ _

____Hamilton produced a coin pouch but James shook his head._ _ _ _

____“It’s on the house. Compliments of the madame.”_ _ _ _

____“Really? Are you certain? I would not want you to be deprived of any needed coin…”_ _ _ _

____“Yes sir. On the house,” he repeated, too shocked at the idea of a _lord_ wanting to make sure he had enough money._ _ _ _

____Hamilton put away the pouch. “Very well then. I expect to see you again next week, James Flint. The same time on…oh, let me think…how about Tuesday?”_ _ _ _

____“I…yes. That would be…fine, I suppose…”_ _ _ _

____“Excellent,” said Hamilton loudly, standing tall. He swept up his hat and walked to the door. James stood in the middle of the room, dumbfounded, in his wake._ _ _ _


	3. Chapter 3

Later that evening James was ambushed in his room by Charlotte and Idelle, wide-eyed and wanting to know what Lord Hamilton had been like in bed.

“He didn’t hurt you did he?” Idelle demanded right away, her excitement giving way to a flare of anger. James assured her it was unwarranted.

“No,” he said. “Not at all. In fact he was…kind.”

Both girls paused.

“Kind?” Charlotte repeated.

James nodded, feeling his face reddened just a little.

“Boy he must have worked some spell on you,” Idelle crooned at him, not missing a beat. Charlotte tried and failed to stifle her giggle.

James grumbled at her. “Do you want details or not?” he griped, knowing that would get them to behave.

At last they calmed themselves and James recounted his time with the lord. He left out a few things (especially after the jesting about kindness), including how there was something _else_ about Hamilton that James couldn’t quite put his finger on but he sensed that it was, in essence, good. He also left out how attractive the man’s sapphire eyes were and how he kept locking with them during their encounter in a way he had not with another man for many years.

He ended his tale with a final comment on how eager Lord Hamilton had been to see him again, which sent the two girls into more giggles.

“Do you think he’s into women at all?” Charlotte asked as she and Idelle took it upon themselves to strip off most of James’s clothes and sponge him down with soapy water behind an old folding screen.

James didn’t even consider his response.

“No,” he said flatly.

Charlotte looked dismayed.

“How can you be so sure?”

James blinked. Truthfully he did not know how he was sure, except that he was sure.

Idelle dried off his back with a cloth after Charlotte squeezed the sponge. The lukewarm water felt good.

“He didn’t tell me; it is just something I know,” said James. “In the same way you can look at a man and know if he wants you or not.”

They grumbled over his answer for a bit. James smiled at them and closed his eyes as they washed the lower half of his legs below his breeches and then his feet. Charlotte hummed a little tune. They had been giving James sponge baths for a few years now of their own free will, simply because they were all friends. Charlotte and Idelle were, he figured, the only people he could consider as such. Max perhaps, though the two of them walked a fine line there since she was his boss.

Billy Bones was the closest he had to a male friend who didn’t look at him just to fuck him but seemed to have a genuine affinity for him. They often engaged in small talk before and after their encounters when Billy brought him his little gifts from prize vessels.

As he bid a thank you and good night to his two friends however, James’s thoughts drifted back to Lord Hamilton. Did the man have some trick up his sleeve, being as he was? Which was to say, completely not full of himself as most lords were wont to be. His kindness had seemed genuine enough. James finally shrugged it off. It did not matter to him one way or the other, as long as Hamilton behaved civilly to him.

No doubt Max would be in here first thing in the morning, having heard Charlotte and Idelle’s report about the man.

He would definitely tell her the part about how Hamilton had seemed concerned about not giving him coin for their time together. That would really surprise her.

He felt the lightest tinge of anticipation for their next meeting.

*

Thomas spent the following few days in and around Nassau fort. There was much work to be done both inside and outside the massive stone wall, including a list of materials needed for repairs and cost estimates, which were already more than he was comfortable with for just the one structure.

The infrastructure of the rest of town was also in need of repairs here and there and so he walked around with bricklayers and stone masons and others, gathering estimates. And always in the shadows around him stalked his advisor, ever vigilant. Rogers offered his opinions here and there and for a while Thomas found himself objectively agreeing with him. But then they came to the issue of piracy.

They were walking towards the brothel. Thomas had his first formal meeting with the madame.

“I’m sorry my lord,” Rogers said, “but I think you are setting your expectations too high. Look what happened when the crown tried making hard working men out of the pirates in Kingston and Port Royale. They proved themselves to be lazy at best and rebellious still at worse.”

“That is because they were, as you say, _made_ to work and treated poorly. We have always treated pirates too much like slaves, Rogers. They are men starved of hope who already feel as slaves to England. Treating them as such only worsens matters.”

“So then you propose to treat them as equals, then?” asked Rogers. No one else might have heard the sarcasm growing on his tongue but Thomas could.

“Will they all receive housing and equal pay, regardless of how they work?” Rogers continued. “That money will come out of your pocket as well. And what about the ones who are known criminals? Do you intend to be as charitable with them?”

Thomas stopped walking, exasperated. “I am aware there is much to consider about the issue,” he said, trying not to clench his teeth. “However, I am devoted to the ideal that the majority of these men can and want to better themselves. And yes, Rogers, I am aware that it might cost me. But I am a firm believer in treating men with respect. Which is more than I can say about some. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a meeting with the madame of the brothel house.”

Rogers had his lips pressed tightly together. A sign he was irritated. Thomas turned fully to face him.

“Is there something else you’d like to criticize?” he asked in a cheery voice. “The day is still young.”

Rogers gave him that long look. Thomas did not like how calculating it always appeared.

“Only that this is another issue I feel needs…addressing. The owner of a whorehouse should _not_ be a source of information in any respectable town.”

Thomas allowed himself a chuckle. “Tell me Rogers, is it that she’s a whorehouse owner that bothers you, or the fact that she is a she?”

The instant Rogers opened his mouth Thomas cut him off.

“No don’t answer that. I’d rather not know. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said again, turning on his heel.

If Rogers cursed under his breath Thomas didn’t hear it, though he couldn’t imagine it otherwise. By the time he was inside the brothel he was regretting himself a little. Perhaps he’d been too antagonistic with the man. Riling him so would only further keep him in a state of agitation. Thomas mulled over the idea of inviting Rogers to the dockside alehouse later on as a means of apology. He didn’t have to like the man, he knew, but they did need to get along to a certain extent.

His mood brightened when he met with Max again. He bowed before her.

“Forgive me for not setting up a meeting sooner,” he said. “There has just been so much to begin, all at the same time, it seems.”

“I quite understand,” said Max congenially.

Thomas noted that she was dressed as impeccably as she’d been when he first met her; every bit of a self-respecting noblewoman. He ought to have pointed that out to Rogers, the annoying bastard.

“When I first took over the business here,” Max continued once they were seated, “I felt as though I’d never get the hang of things. But you will find that some things will fall where they should, without your worrying.”

Thomas inclined his head. “Thank you.” Then he cocked his head, regarding her. “Or was that also you telling me I need not worry about _this_ place?”

Another tiny smile ghosted over her lips. “Perhaps. And perhaps I should inquire about your visit here the other night with Mr. Flint. Surely he persuaded you in favor of my establishment?”

Thomas smiled and lifted a finger to his lips absently. “Yes. Mr. Flint. Wherever did he come from?”

“He used to be an officer in the British Navy before he came to Nassau. Before that I do not really know. Bad fortune fell upon him and his particular nature had kept him from any honest work in England, so he ended up here, at my doorstep.”

Though her words were plain Thomas read into the sadness of the story. A navy man turned prostitute? It boggled the mind. And if enough important people had discovered his true nature then that must have meant that he’d been banished from the country.

“Not the happiest of tales, I agree,” said Max, discerning his expression.

He saw a flicker of sadness in her gaze. It stoked his curiosity about the man.

“But,” she continued, “He does well here, both for himself and for this establishment.”

Thomas nodded. “Yes, I’m sure.”

They changed subjects and eventually spoke of Max’s special talents regarding the rest of the town, including an impressive amount of valuable information on the pirate crews: Who brought in the best cargo and goods, who had defended the island from the English, Spanish, and Dutch over the years, and even the status of pirates sailing other parts of the Atlantic that England wanted, dead or alive.

He sensed her unease the more they spoke of piracy. Thomas assured her it was not his intention to kill them but rather issue them pardons and put them to work, gradually changing them over to legitimate citizens.

“I know that sudden change is often counter-productive,” he said. “And especially in a place such as this, I wish to ruffle feathers as little as possible.”

“I see,” said Max. She licked her lips, looking less than satisfied. “Forgive my hesitation, my lord,” she said, “but that is not what several of my customers have heard from Mr. Woodes Rogers.”

Thomas scoffed. “Between you and I, Woodes Rogers is holding a grudge, nothing more. I would take any information from him with a grain of salt if you did not hear it from me first.”

Max nodded. “That is good to know, my lord.”

They concluded their business, with Max making mention of knowing about his next meeting with Flint.

“The word on the street is that you are kind,” she told him with perhaps her warmest smile yet. He might have even blushed.

“Thank you, my lady,” he replied.

He left her office feeling unusually chipper. So, Flint had called him kind. That mattered to him, for some reason. He let his mind wonder—not for the first time that day—to the image of the man and all those freckles, dear Lord. And his thighs, Jesus. The last man Thomas had fooled around with had bird legs. He’d missed the feel of a man’s man under his palms. And the scrape of James’s beard. And the small handful of ruddy hair tied behind his head. And…well, everything about him was so likeable, really. But bolstered by the small amount of history Max had given him, there was much more to James Flint, Thomas was certain.

*

The two men across from Rogers had ordered drinks, glad to have their first real break from their work with the new governor. They had accompanied Lord Hamilton and Rogers from England, sailing on the same ship. Rogers had come to trust them; they had both been privy to the tension between the two men while crossing the Atlantic.

Rogers allowed them a few moments of merriment. He himself did not take drink. His mind was cranking slowly, like clock gears, and he did not want to weaken the cogs with drink.

“Something must be done,” he said at last, bringing the other two men to attention. One of them shrugged.

“I share your concern, but Hamilton is one of those pompous types who thinks he knows everything, what can you do?”

“I was sent here as his official advisor,” said Rogers, “which is to also say that if something unforeseen happened to him here, I would be the one to take over.”

That got the attention of both men, who exchanged looks with one another, then turned back to him. He looked between them evenly, making certain they understood him. He waited.

“And while we’re on the subject,” the second man started slowly, leaning forward across the table, “I wonder what kind of compensation we would receive, should something ill befall his lordship.”

Rogers’ lip twitched upward. “Well, I would imagine that the new governor would be…exceedingly grateful for your immediate cooperation, in whatever endeavor he saw fit to begin in Nassau.”

From under his hand tapping idly on the table Rogers slid out two gold sterling pieces. The men’s eyes widened subtly.

“I may be in debt, gentlemen, but I assure you I still know how to acquire money,” said Rogers smoothly.

The men each took a coin from the table once Rogers’ hand had slipped back to his lap.

*

When late afternoon on Tuesday rolled around James spotted Thomas first in the tavern downstairs. He’d made eye contact amidst the hustle and bustle of the crowd, then proceeded upstairs to an empty room.

Thomas followed him, greeting him with the same smile James remembered from before. He then crossed the room, loosening his cravat and taking off his wig as he sat heavily in a chair by the bed.

“Oh thank God,” he sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes. Perhaps the day had been too taxing for him.

“If you wish to meet at another time, my lo—”

James stopped himself, recalling that Hamilton didn’t want to hear titles.

The governor opened his eyes, looking at him. The smile returned.

“Thomas, if you please. I am fine, just tired of the long day, James. May I call you James?”

“Of course. I carry no title, so I don't see why not.”

Had that been too much jesting? Apparently not because Thomas said ‘good’ and motioned for him.

“Give my shoulders a rubbing, would you? They grow terribly stiff when I’m under stress, I’m afraid.”

James raised an eyebrow, half expecting Thomas to be joking with him now, but he was not. The other man peeled off his coat and his vest, leaving only a white undershirt on. James stood behind him and began rolling his fingers over Thomas’s shoulders.

“Is this an unusual request for you?” Thomas asked.

“It is,” James admitted, “but lucky for you I massage the madame’s shoulders often and have been told I’m rather good at it.”

Thomas seemed to settle further down in the chair.

“Mmm, you are,” he said.

James moved his palms in slow, methodical circles, kneading over his muscles and rather enjoying the feel of it. Eventually he slid his hands underneath Thomas’s shirt to touch bare skin. The blonde made a noise of assent, rolling his head to the side, eyes still closed.

James had never, ever given a massage to a man before, and though it should have felt awkward to him it did not in the least. Thomas’s skin was smooth and warming under his touch.

He slid his hands further down, thumbs moving in deep circles on the tops of Thomas’s shoulders. He felt his collarbone and dared to let an index finger graze Thomas’s throat. That was when the tall lord let his head fall back, looking up at him. His expression was no longer tired.

James moved around to his front and kneeled, hands moving to unfasten the buttons of those expensive breeches. He flinched slightly when a hand touched his face; a brushing of fingers falling down to his beard.

“Sorry,” Thomas murmured, but James found himself leaning into the tactile feel of those fingers. Was that also allowed?

It was. Thomas stroked his jaw as James pulled out his cock and stroked him until it was pink and full.

“Relax some more,” said James, enjoying how Thomas’s sapphire were ink-black as he gazed down at him.

James ran the tip of his tongue down Thomas’s shaft to his balls and back up again, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. Then he sucked the plump tip of his cock into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the slit, liking the warm tang of salt there. Thomas’s hands from both sides touched his face, feeling out his cheeks as James took his cock down. Usually men just grabbed his hair and pulled. But Thomas did not, seeming to enjoy touching his face instead. He could get used to this.

When Thomas was panting openly he looked up and oh, what a sight the governor was. His head was thrown back, tips of his teeth biting into his lower lip, cheeks flushed rose that spread down to his chest of the v-necked undershirt.

“Oh James,” he muttered.

Oh _James?_

No one, not even Billy, had uttered his name during sex before. The sentiment went straight to his gut and groin. He deep-throated Thomas and sucked until he gagged. Thomas gasped loudly and cursed, fingers coming to sift through James’s hair. James planted wet sloppy kisses over his cock, teasing him, before taking him all the way down again. Then he wrapped his fist around his shaft, looking up to watch Thomas as his orgasm clearly began to build. Fuck, but he was even more beautiful like this, more beautiful than Billy.

Thomas came with a strangled keen that turned into gasps for air. James swallowed his release down. Thomas gave him a broad, toothy smile as James rose up.

“To your satisfaction?” he asked with a smug grin.

Thomas nodded, wiping his brow. “Yes, most definitely. And now…”

His hands went for James’s crotch but James moved back.

“It’s not necessary,” he said simply. Though he’d enjoyed giving the blowjob it had not aroused him physically. He was too used to only giving.

“Are you sure?” Thomas asked, looking genuinely concerned.

James nodded. “Yes. I am here for you, first and foremost.”

“Pfft.”

Thomas waved his hand through the air as if to dismiss the notion but he did not try for James again. James chuckled.

“You’re not at all what I was expecting,” he finally commented as Thomas fixed his pants and replaced his vest.

“Yes well, I could say the same,” Thomas countered with a little smile. He righted his vest and stood and looked around them. James felt disappointment creep up in him.

“Are we finished?” he asked.

“What? No! Not at all. I've paid for an hour and a half and I wish to find someplace quiet. Tell me James, do you know somewhere we could go?”

James blinked, thinking. “Well, yes. Let me see…there is a lagoon in the center of the island and this close to dusk it’s likely to be vacant…”

“Excellent,” said Thomas, swiping up his coat. “Let’s go.”

Now this was definitely strange. A customer wanting not to fuck _and_ to leave the room for…somewhere quiet?

James followed him downstairs and out the doors, doing his best to ignore the looks of his fellow co-workers along the way, though he could feel eyes burning into the back of his head just the same.

The sun was low but had not yet touched the treetops as James led them away from the town. The wide dirt road turned into a trail as they headed to the island’s interior, where Mother Nature still dominated the landscape. James had not been here in some time and it was good to see the lagoon again. He gave a grand sweep of his arm.

“The lagoon of New Providence,” he announced.

Thomas looked out at it.

“Very lovely! I can easily imagine some benches along its shore. I ought to squeeze that into the ‘to-do’ list. Rogers will love that.”

James detected the last bit to be sarcasm.

“I cannot imagine benches being that important on such a list,” he said.

“No,” said Thomas. “I only wish it were that easy. No, the fort must be repaired and there are plenty of issues within town to contend with, not to mention the pirates and trade.”

“What will you do about the pirates?”

Thomas told him, in no uncertain terms, his hopes for the pirates of Nassau. James thought the idea very noble, though he was not certain how practical it was. They discussed this point and others for some time. Thomas, he discovered, was a man full of all the things James had begun to believe existed only as lofty, fantastical ideas in books. All the principles he’d learned as a boy and in the navy regarding man’s nature—even things as basic as virtue, honesty, and kindness—he’d long since put to rest, making a clear line in his head that divided cold reality from fantasy. Yet here was a man who not only still believed in those ideas but seemed to have very logical ideas about seeing them to fruition in the form of economic growth and prosperity. And, James dared hope, a man in his position might actually be able to pull it off.

He told Thomas the same but trailed off.

“You think I can do all of this… _but_ ,” said Thomas, waiting. “I see the word on your face.”

“But,” said James, “there is a simple truth that may get in your way. My superior in the navy told it to me when I was still a midshipman and it’s proven to hold true ever since.”

“You have me curious. What is it?”

“That in most cases a man trying to change the world fails for one simple and unavoidable reason: everyone else.”

A slow smile slipped onto Thomas’s face and he chuckled. James couldn’t help but echo it. James felt something between them then; something invisible but surely there just the same. It was written on the smile the other man kept giving him; like some invisible ink whose words were meant for him alone.

Thomas’s smile faded into something more somber as the shadows around them lengthened.

“I am sorry that has been true for you,” he said. “About people, I mean. Max mentioned to me you were in the navy. May I ask what happened?”

James sucked in a breath.

“No one has ever asked me that,” he said.

Thomas blinked.

“Why on earth not?”

James frowned and shrugged, not seeing the point of his question.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied.

Thomas’s brows furrowed again as though he didn’t like that answer.

“Thomas,” he said patiently, “I’m a whore. This? What we’re doing right now? It’s not to be done in my line of work. People need a good fuck. That’s my job. Pleasantries are exchanged and then it’s down to business. We don’t care to get involved our client’s lives and they care even less to get involved in ours.”

“And is that what you want?”

James gave him a look.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a simple question,” said Thomas evenly. “Is this what you want? To be a whore? When clearly the fact that you were a naval officer more than suggests you are grossly overqualified to be earning a living getting paid for sex.”

James gave him a hard look.

“I don’t recall suddenly opening the door for you to inquire about my life. For someone so eager for my attention you’re suddenly sounding as though you have a problem with me. I’ve had my share of humiliated men who beg for my hole in the dark and then turn around and decry me and men like me as worthless cocksuckers and abominations. _Monsters._ I don’t need to hear it from a fucking _lord_ as well.”

James spun around on his heel, not giving a damn if he got paid for this session or not. But Thomas was hot on his heels.

“James. James! Please, stop.”

He didn’t until Thomas’s hand wrapped around his elbow. He jerked away but turned to face him.

“What?” he barked.

“Please, listen! You misunderstand me.”

Thomas held his palms up in supplication, sapphire eyes deep and searching all over James’s face. It was hard to look away from them, even when he was angry.

“The only problem I have with you,” Thomas said, “is that I like you as much as I do. And I think you deserve better than working in a brothel. My words had nothing to do with what you are. What _we_ are. There is nothing wrong with this.”

Thomas reached out and touched his sleeve very tentatively. James looked down at where his fingers rubbed the fabric of his shirt. He swallowed. No one had ever been so careful with him before.

“No man has ever told me that,” he said with hesitation.

“Honestly,” replied Thomas, “I’m not sure that I’ve ever felt the need to say it to another man…until now.”

“Why?”

Now it seemed as though Thomas was the one squirming under scrutiny. James sighed, letting out the last of his anger.

“Nevermind about it. It’s getting late. We should start heading back.”

The hand came out to grab his sleeve again.

“Wait. Over here.”

Thomas stepped over to a thick tree trunk and pushed James against it. He kneeled down and began unfastening James’s trousers. James’s hand caught his wrist.

“You don’t need to. You don’t…owe me anything.”

“I know,” Thomas replied softly, looking up at him through his lashes. James swallowed hard.

“I’m doing this because I _want_ to.”

James let go of his wrist, heart beginning to grow loud in his ears at this unexpected pleasure he was about to receive. He was soft, but as Thomas wrapped his lips around his cock and pulled on his balls at the same time he hardened quickly. He watched, fascinated and aroused, as his cock fully hardened in Thomas’s mouth. Thomas let the head push against his cheek before pulling off and kissing the tip.

“Oh!”

He had _kissed_ his cock; the gentlest sensation of soft lips on his cock-head had sent hot chills down James’s body. As Thomas worked him James wanted to touch. He raised his hands to Thomas’s shoulders, then slid them up the curve of his neck and into the back of his hair, feeling the motion as Thomas bobbed his cock into his mouth.

James let out small curses as his breaths grew heavy. Thomas’s yellow hair was thick but soft. He moved his thumbs to Thomas’s cheeks and Thomas let his cock push out there, then took James down deeper, almost to his balls. The sudden increase of slick hotness around every inch of his cock made James gasp. He threw his head back on the tree, trying hard not to buck into Thomas’s mouth but Jesus, the man was making it difficult.

His eyes popped open as he felt Thomas’s mouth devour his sac while a thumb rubbed hard over his plump and deep red cock-head, stimulating the sensitive nerves so that James was nearly trembling with want. His mouth was dry and his cock was so fucking heavy and Thomas felt, oh _fuck_ , he felt so fucking good.

Seconds before he was going to come James wondered if he should do it to the side, if Thomas may not like that in his mouth, but now Thomas was fucking him with a fist _and_ his mouth and James couldn’t think. At all. And Thomas showed no signs of slowing and…and…

With a stifled keen James spilled over. His eyes were heavy with lust as he watched Thomas control his cock, letting him come on the lord’s lips and chin and—good heavens—his tongue as Thomas held his mouth open.

James keened again at the sight, feeling weak. This was too much, but it was fucking wonderful.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” he panted out as Thomas squeezed the last of his release out, cleaning his face with a handkerchief. He rose and pressed close to James and for an instant James panicked, because it looked as though Thomas wanted to kiss him—eyes as soft as pillows and lips parted. Instead Thomas bent and kissed James’s neck and to James’s surprise he bared it for Thomas, groaning. Thomas sucked the thin skin between his teeth and tugged. James heard himself moan again, the sensation zinging down towards his cock.

Thomas broke away, licking his lips. Despite his own rule James actually wanted to kiss those lips. A lot.

He resisted the urge and they both settled for a smile between them.

“Thank you,” said James.

Thomas quirked an eyebrow at him.

“It was my pleasure.”

The entire way back James was in high spirits, chatting heavily and further encouraged by the fact that Thomas seemed to be on the same high. He wanted to know about Nassau and its people and James obliged him, glad to feel needed in a way that wasn’t about sex.

Thomas asked endless question, especially about the pirates. James joked that he was in danger of turning into a sponge if he soaked up any more information.

When they arrived back at the brothel after dark Thomas paused before they parted.

“I hope I’m not crossing any boundaries,” he said. “But I’d like to ask if it’s all right for us to be friends. If not, just say as much and I’ll leave it at that.”

James considered briefly. There was a faint but nagging voice telling him to be cautious about this. Thomas was, after all, a governor and a lord. Despite his kindness James had no doubt the man knew how to manipulate people into getting what he wanted. He had considered the possibility that Thomas could be using him in such a way to earn his trust as a means to information and little more.

That was before today, however. Though Thomas had asked plenty of questions, James once again was forced to concede to his gut instinct that his questions came from a more virtuous place than deception. As both a naval officer and a sex worker here his instincts had served him well.

Mostly, however, it was because Thomas looked at him and spoke to him in a way that only a rare few had, which was to say with respect and acceptance.

He let slip the next thought verbally: “Pardon me, but I wonder if your sincerity is too much for your own good, my lord.”

He grinned and Thomas mirrored it.

“Told you not to call me that,” Thomas muttered under his breath.

“I know,” said James cheerily. “And yes, I will be your friend. With…benefits,” he added.

The earlier lust in Thomas’s gaze sparked to life for a second as they eyed each other. Then Thomas planted his hat firmly on his head and gave James a quick nod.

“Mr. Flint. Until next time.”


	4. Chapter 4

Captains Charles Vane and John Silver both looked up from the slab of wood over two barrels that was serving as a table between them on the beach.

“There he is,” announced Silver, slowly rising with the help of his crutch, “The secret pirate. Come to give us more words of never-ending wisdom, have you?”

James scoffed at them as he approached. He accepted a decanter of rum from Vane, taking a swig before handing it back.

“It’s my day off and I was bored,” James answered. “And,” he added just as Vane was opening his mouth for what James was sure was another stellar, smartass remark, “I heard from a little bird that you’re both careening.”

He dramatically craned his neck out as though looking for ships. Silver smirked.

“Other side of the bay. Out of sight from the new governor.”

Vane sneered.

“Nearly finished," he said. "Don’t think for a moment you had anything to do with it. Was going to careen her anyway.”

James looked at Silver, who smirked again. James’s smile grew. So. Vane _had_ actually listened to him and told the other captains to careen.

James accepted another drink from the rum.

“So what have you heard about Governor Hamilton?” Silver asked him. “Are we safe? I’m getting conflicting reports from that damn brothel.”

This time it was Vane who met his gaze with a smirk. James rolled his eyes. Of fucking course Vane would know about he and Hamilton. But his discreet gaze seemed to suggest he’d kept it to himself, thankfully.

“He doesn't mean to hang us,” said James, running a hand down his beard. “As I understand it, it’s his second-in-command who is firmly against piracy and pirates. He’s in favor of punishments, but the governor is against it. He wants to offer pardons and put you all to honest work.”

“Honest work?” Silver said with a derisive snort. He knocked on his wooden leg with a fist. “What the fuck am I going to do? Take up knitting?”

Vane smirked again. James gave them both an exasperated look.

“There’s plenty to be done in Nassau that isn’t back-breaking labor. I think we should give this one a chance.”

“We?” said Vane, lighting a cheroot. “You one of us now?”

“Shut up Vane,” said Silver calmly. “He knows more about sailing and strategy than most of the pirates on this godforsaken island and you know it.”

They bantered for a few more minutes. James once again slid in his opinion about the governor before Silver announced he needed to get back to oversee the careening of The Walrus, which was a few hundred yards away from Vane’s ship The Ranger. When he was out of earshot James grabbed Vane roughly by the arm.

“Did you—”

“No.”

Vane jerked out of his grip. “I didn’t say shit about you and the governor to anyone, keep your pants on. Was all of that gushing over him all true? Because the three of us can fuck around, but you must know what it’s been like for the rest of our number since the governor’s arrival.”

James nodded. “I know. Everyone is on edge. Even Max can sense it. But I’m telling you, Hamilton is not a foe. I think it would be in everyone’s interest to see that it stays that way. Don’t give him a reason to want to see you all hanged.”

Charles took a deep inhale off the cheroot, considering.

“I’ll pass it along,” he said at last. “Meantime you best make certain you’re thinking with your big head and not the little one.”

On that note he slapped at James’s crotch, making him flinch away automatically, then turned and walked away.

Before he left the beach that day Billy spotted him. He was shirtless and sweating from careening The Walrus. James admired the sight. And Billy looked hungry.

They stepped off the shore and out of sight so Billy could fuck him against a palm tree. James loved when Billy got like this; greedy for him and practically begging out in broad daylight.

He did notice, however, the difference in Billy’s touch to Thomas’s.

Billy paid him afterwards, looking like the satisfied customer he always was. James took the money and Billy went on his way.

*

The following weeks became a pattern of boredom and excitement for James. When he wasn’t with Nassau’s governor he found it increasingly difficult to entertain himself. Even when reading—a long-time hobby—his mind would drift to Thomas and the time they spent together.

And it was worse. He often found himself recalling their sexual encounters, their vividness and the way Thomas’s touch was soothing and erotic, caressing and passionate all at once. It would make his cock respond when he didn’t want it to.

There were, however, other goings-on that were drawing the attention of Nassau’s citizens. His co-workers were getting more and more information from members of Hamilton’s entourage who visited the brothel. As a result the pirates—as Vane had indeed told him—were growing increasingly nervous, though not from Governor Hamilton. It was Woodes Rogers and his “merry band of soliders” (as Silver had disdainfully called them) who were causing unease. James had seen firsthand the soldiers’ aggression towards the pirates. Max also had more incidents of mistreatment to deal with.

All of it angered James. Nothing moreso than when he started to hear unwarranted grumblings against the governor himself.

He told Max as much one day.

“…You know if I witness any wrong-doing towards the girls I will put an end to it,” he told her now.

“I know,” said Max. “And I am grateful for it. However, we must be careful. These are fragile times. A single crack—even an accidental one—can cause everything to shatter.”

She didn’t need to elaborate to him. Though James had always found politics and political intrigue not to his tastes in London, he nevertheless paid attention for his own sake. The same was true here.

“And you are offering… _helpful suggestions_ to the crews, I take it?” she asked, not-so coyly raising an eyebrow. They had decided it best not to speak so bluntly about piracy, in case ears not their own were listening.

“I’m confident Captains Vane and Silver are on board with keeping the peace,” James replied. “As long as Vane doesn’t do anything rash, the other captains and crews will follow suit.”

Max nodded, though worry lines marred her forehead and her lips were tight.

“I am also concerned about you and the governor,” she said.

“I promise we are being discreet. We did journey into the interior, I’m sure you heard, but it was late and no one was around—”

Max waved his words away. “That is not what I meant.”

She came around from her desk to stand in front of him.

“James,” she said quietly, intimately, “I can see that you have formed a bond with him, as you have with Billy Bones. If Hamilton were simply another pirate I would not care. But—”

“I know,” James said quickly, eyes fluttering to the floor before looking back up at her. “It could be dangerous, for several reasons. I’ve considered this. And despite his position, I do not think he is a threat to this place. Most men are pretenders,” he went on, feeling the momentum building in him and looking at her earnestly, “But Thom—Hamilton, when talks about the need to rethink things—systemic things—I think he truly believes what he’s saying.”

Her eyes searched his for a moment, measuring.

“That is comforting to hear,” she said at last and James tried not to sigh too loudly.

“We need a governor like him. But…there are problems.”

“Rogers,” said James in a tight voice.

Max nodded.

“Idelle and other girls have noticed he seems to have gained a following of the governor’s men who are loyal to him and perhaps _only_ to him.”

“You think he means to cause real trouble for the governor?” James asked with renewed concern.

“It is possible, though I cannot be certain,” said Max after a long sigh.

“What will you do?” he asked.

“What can I do?” she replied. “I have no power from the crown, at least by myself. I need someone to advocate for my position and this place as part of the new regime and not something to be replaced, and it sounds as though Hamilton would be willing to listen to such a proposal.”

When Max did not go on, James asked hesitantly, “But?”

“But…Rogers. And of course there will be a number of pirates who will resist all attempts at colonization. James, if your bond with governor is a bond at all, I need your help. You know him and you know the pirates.”

James nodded, seeing where this was going.

“I understand,” he said. “And since I am already trying to persuade both parties anyway…”

He gave a little shrug of his shoulders and smirked at her. Max grinned broadly at him.

“Ah, thank you so much,” she said in French.

He kissed her forehead.

“Anything for you, my lady.”

*

Thomas stepped away from the lights of the town and onto the sandy soil as it turned into beach.

“Begging your pardon, governor, but I strongly suggest you do not go out there alone,” said Cedric, one of his long-time servants. Next to him a guard agreed.

“This is where the pirates and other criminals often gather, there, around those fires,” he said. Thomas followed his pointing finger to where there were several such fires lit on the beach, surrounded by groups of men, shouting and laughing loudly. He could make out the liquor bottles in their hands from here as the glass glinted off the firelight.

“I’m aware,” he replied wearily. “I am just walking straight ahead, not fifty feet from where we stand. I’ll be fine, gentlemen. And besides…”

He patted the pistol that was tucked into his belt. The two men glanced dubiously at one another. Thomas sighed again.

“Gentlemen, I thank you, but I wish for some peace and quiet tonight, of which I’ve had very little of either since arriving here. Please, go back to the tavern and enjoy yourselves for a quarter of an hour, yes?”

Reluctantly the men did as they were told. Thomas yanked off his hat and wig and loosened his cravat as he walked out onto the beach, relieved to be alone at last.

He gazed out at the ocean and the horizon beyond, marveling how it all looked like an illusion of some sort under the moonlight. The moon out here was enormous and bright white tonight, quite lovely. The mosquitoes, however, were something to contend with. He’d heard there were special oils one could use to keep them away. He made a mental note to look into it.

He’d no sooner sat down on a piece of driftwood from an unused camp when he turned his head to four figures from one of the other camps coming towards him. They were making a sloppy beeline, clearly drunk. Then three of the men stopped and left their cohort to walk on alone. He was a hulk of a man and most certainly a pirate. Thomas quickly rose to his feet, hand moving towards the pistol.

The man was carrying a decanter by the neck. His sword was sheathed in his belt, Thomas noted with relief as he drew nearer. He stopped yelling at his friends behind him as he approached Thomas.

“May I help you?” Thomas asked.

“You’re the new governor, aren’t you?” the man asked, grinning as he touched the bottle to his lips.

“Yes,” said Thomas slowly, watching him carefully. The man sported a thick and grizzly looking beard, with mussed hair that was loose and touched his shoulders. He had a tattoo—some kind of tribal design—that covered his entire shoulder and wound its way down his arm.

“Nice to make your acquaintance,” said the man, taking a bow that Thomas knew was more mocking than respectful.

“Is it true you’re gonna give us all pardons?” the pirate asked, leering at Thomas.

Thomas stood his ground.

“I’m sorry, Mr…?”

“Ducat,” Ducat half slurred. “Of The Sturgeon.

He glanced over to see Cedric and the guard men making their way towards him, though he could not tell if they registered Ducat as a threat yet.

“Yes, well Mr. Ducat,” said Thomas, “Pardons will be on the table, it’s true.”

Ducat closed in on him. Thomas backed up, hand clutching around his pistol, loaded with its shot. Ducat, despite his drunkenness, followed the movement. He leered again.

“Can I work for you, then?” he asked. “Get meself some fancy clothes an’ a wig, make lots of money?”

Thomas backed up another step. His men were fast approaching.

“You know what I think?” Ducat sneered at him. He was close enough for Thomas to smell the rum on his breath. Thomas clutched at the pistol, mouth going dry.

“I think you’re a liar,” said Ducat. “Another fucking tyrant, here to hang us all when you get a chance…”

“You there!” bellowed the guard.

Ducat looked up sharply. Their pistols were pulled. Ducat gave one long withering glare at Thomas before turning abruptly and walking back to his camp.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why didn't anyone remind me to update this! :O I finally remembered. A quick but important note: Ducat comes for a visit in this chapter so here's where the borderline non-con comes into play. It's not long or graphic though. I promise Ducat will get what's coming to him in the next chapter.

James could feel the tension in the governor’s muscles as he massaged them, the third time and counting.

“Bless your fingers,” Thomas said, eyes closed as he rolled his neck back and forth. It popped a few times.

They were in another inn room and once again Thomas had commenced their encounter with conversation rather than sex.

James minded that detail less and less, though it didn’t stop him from wanting Thomas’s particular touch any less.

“Tell me about yourself, James,” he asked now, eyes closed.

James’s hands paused over the curve of Thomas’s neck.

“You already know my story. I was in the navy,” he replied.

Thomas rose and James’s hands fell back to their sides, until Thomas took hold of one and guided him to sit on the bed, soft smile playing on his lips.

“My meaning was for you to tell me things such as your interests, what you like to do when you’re not working.”

_Think about you._

He didn’t voice it out loud.

“I enjoy a book on occasion,” he said instead. “And perhaps star-gazing when I get the chance,” he added, uncertain what Thomas would make of a whore investing himself in such activities. But Thomas immediately brightened.

“Have you read any Hobbes or Locke?”

James raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, actually…”

*

They talked and talked. To say James was surprised he shared the same passions as a lord would be an understatement. It was not exactly that they shared much in common. On the contrary, he found Thomas’s optimism often synonymous with an idealistic view on many of England’s problems. He felt the urge to break down those arguments into a more realistic approach. Yet Thomas seemed encouraged rather than put off by his objections. James found that, at the heart of things, they shared the same ideals.

“England is an enormous power in the world, the seat of civilization some would say,” said Thomas as they spent an afternoon in James’s personal quarters.

“But I feel that it is also becoming a tyrant,” he continued. “Not to mention I’ve spent most of my life living under the rule of a tyrant.”

He frowned at James, who cocked his head, not understanding.

“My father,” Thomas clarified flatly. “The Fourth Earl of Ashbourne and Lord Proprietor of this island.”

The entire title made James scoff under his breath, though the twitch at Thomas’s lips told him he’d caught it.

“Lord Proprietor?” James repeated. He’d heard the title before but wasn’t keen on its full meaning.

“Yes. Think of it as a landlord’s title. My father received a charter from the king to rule over this place. And while he and other lords proprietors have certainly induced colonists to the New World with promises of religious toleration and political representation, he also has failed to protect settlements and has promised planters lots of land with… _slaves,_ (the first time James heard his distaste for this subject). He’d have disowned me by now on account of my nature if I wasn’t his eldest son.”

James scoffed again, with more anger this time.

“He sounds like the perfect symbol of a civilized society,” he said sourly.

Thomas chuckled, but then his face darkened.

“He used to beat me when I was young,” he said, his eyes staring out at nothing in particular.

James straightened, his mood further souring.

“Before I was old enough to really resist him,” Thomas went on. “I was coming of age and eventually he found out about two of my _indiscretions_ with other boys. He called me a filthy degenerate, not worthy of my future title. Certainly not worthy to be his son.”

James’s chest tightened. Old anger flared to life in him, along with memories he’d rather forget. In the space that followed Thomas’s words James said softly, “I’m sorry.”

Thomas blinked and looked at him with a sad smile.

“No matter. I outgrew his abuse, I suppose. As long as he never got wind of my dalliances nothing more was done or said on the subject. But he’s hated me ever since. The feeling is mutual,” he added with a shrug.

James found himself wanting to offer more comfort, to reach out. He decided to try it. He reached out and slid his hand over Thomas’s thigh to capture his hand. Thomas watched the movement, then looked up, the shadows on his face fading. He tugged on James’s hand and James rose. Thomas stood and began plying those soft kisses James had so come to enjoy on his neck. He sighed into the now familiar feel of the governor’s lips pressing into his skin.

Soon enough Thomas took things further and off went their clothes. He stroked and teased James’s cock until it was rock-hard, then allowed James to do the same for him. James went to his knees, but Thomas insisted on putting a pillow on the ground for him.

James knelt on the soft pillow, stilling as he looked up at Thomas. He let his eyes wonder the expanse of Thomas’s nude body. He was becoming bolder in this act of looking, in a way he never had before. Men did not typically bother with another male gaze (nor want it, he had found out the hard way), yet Thomas not only seemed unbothered by it, he clearly enjoyed it.

James found the same to still be true as Thomas smiled down at him, biting his lower lip (Jesus) and running a hand through James’s hair.

James drank in the smooth, unmarred skin of his lord and governor, especially his hips and shoulders and chest; all those areas usually hidden from view. There was a certain shape to Thomas as well. Though his curves were not feminine they were not the curves of James’s body, or Billy’s, or the other rough-hewn men he was accustomed to.

His hand slid along Thomas’s hips, following the curves of muscles and sinew to his stomach and the soft hairs below his navel, then around to the globes of his ass.

“You are—”

He stopped himself. What the fuck was he thinking?

“I am…what?” asked Thomas. He reached around and brought James’s hand to his front, threading their fingers together.

James’s heart seemed to stutter. He blinked down at his pillowed knees and felt something tugging at him as though an invisible sea monster was loosening the mooring holding him in this comfortable space. There should not be a pillow for his knees. This was not right.

“James?”

Thomas tilted his head up by his chin and there were those damned blue eyes, glittering like diamonds at him. James swallowed.

“My lo—Thomas. Why… is there a pillow under me?”

His meaning did not seem lost. Thomas’s brows scowled together the way they did when he was annoyed or upset. He tugged James to his feet and kissed his jaw lightly, eyes ever attentive to his own. James could not look away from those diamond eyes. He thought of the stories of the sirens he’d learned as a boy and young sailor, seducing men with their song and beauty. The men, unable to resist, were already doomed.

“James, I’d like to try something,” Thomas said.

James blinked back to him. Ah. A new pleasure. He immediately felt at ease again.

“Anything,” he said, without thinking.

They went to the bed and Thomas bade him lay down. It felt good to be on his own mattress, worn though it was. Thomas hovered over him, plying wet lips to his bare nipple and making him tingle all over, rousing his cock again.

James once again found himself drawn to watching Thomas’s lithe form move over him. He wanted to touch. He soothed his palms over Thomas’s back, feeling strong shoulder muscles work under him. Thomas dipped his back so his cock rutted up against James’s stomach, warm and erect. The sensation punched a moan into his throat. Thomas kissed his shoulder, moving his cock up and down against him. He reached for the container of oil setting on the table and dipped his fingers in. James watched eagerly. But Thomas passed over his cock and instead went further below, between James’s legs.

“What are— _oh._ ”

His legs spread of their own accord as Thomas found his hole. He was once again already open. He arched a brow at James.

“You’re going to have to let me do this sometime, to make you wet and loose for me.”

James didn’t know what to say so he just sighed instead. Long and elegant fingers touched his rim, then slid in, testing.

Thomas shifted, pushing three fingers fully inside him. James arched up as his governor plied his lips to his Adam’s Apple, then licked behind his ear. Thomas’s fingers were fucking perfect. James writhed his hips to their touch.

“James,” Thomas hissed into his ear hotly.

Never had another man wanted him on his back before. Yet the move did not surprise him, coming from Thomas. And then Thomas lifted up and took his cock between James’s legs. He meant to fuck him this way. Warning bells went off in James’s head, like the bells on a ship, alerting its men to danger on the high seas.

But the imagined noise shattered as Thomas’s cock filled his entrance and pushed in.

His body stiffened and then seemed to melt, his jaw going slack and eyes closing as Thomas’s prick pressed in, in, until James felt his balls against his skin.

They both gasped and stuttered out breaths.

“Oh fuck James,” Thomas moaned. His diamond eyes were glazed, his cheeks warm. James avoided looking at his lips.

Thomas pulled out until his cock-head was nearly out, then thrust all the way back in.

The moan escaped James’s throat this time and left between his lips. Thomas repeated the motion. As his cock pulled out James wanted to shout at its loss, but then a second later it filled him again and his hole gripped it fiercely.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned softly.

Thomas’s forehead was pressed against his own. James’s hands came up to the tops of Thomas’s thighs, feeling the muscles as Thomas gently fucked him. Each thrust sent a wave of heat through his body, burying itself in his gut. Thomas dipped his back again so that James’s cock was pressed between their bodies. James arched up into the newly formed tight heat.

Thomas was staring at his lips. James bit his own bottom lip, resisting the urge to kiss. As a distraction he reached between them and pinched Thomas’s nipples, flipping his thumbs over them. He grinned when Thomas’s eyes closed and he cursed again. He looked down at James and echoed his smile.

“What are you thinking right now?” Thomas breathed out.

“That you are a fucking siren, sent here to drown me.”

That made Thomas laugh out loud; a charming sound.

 _Fucking siren,_ James thought.

Yet he wanted to answer the call desperately. Thomas was kissing him everywhere his mouth could reach, save for his lips, but he came dangerously close, kissing his jawline over and over. God, he wanted to, James knew. And yet he did not. Nor did he ask.

His cock pushed in faster, nudging up against James’s prostrate and sending bolts of lightning into his balls.

James slid his arms up over his head and Thomas immediately pinned them there with their fingers entwined. He pushed them into the mattress and fucked James harder, his breathing heavy and short.

James wanted to stop moaning like a ravenous adolescent but found he could not. Every inch of his skin that Thomas touched was hot and needy, like his hole. Never had another man unmade him quite like this before.

He opened his eyes. Thomas’s head was buried into the crook of his neck, sucking marks there. He turned his head, forcing Thomas to look up. James ripped one hand free and grabbed Thomas’s jaw with it, forcing their lips together.

Thomas whimpered loudly into his mouth. James let his hand drop away but the force of their kiss remained, like hurricane waters crashing into a hull. James opened wide as Thomas’s tongue forced its way inside him, their tongues clashing together as Thomas drove his cock relentlessly inside him.

His orgasm thundered over him, taking his breath away momentarily. He bucked and pushed against Thomas’s body over him, groaning hard into Thomas’s hot mouth. And then he felt Thomas’s thighs spasm. He pushed in hard and James felt the vague warmth spread from Thomas’s cock inside him.

Thomas broke their kiss and moaned into the air. James watched him, dazed. Thomas thrusted slowly inside him and James contracted around his shaft until they were both moaning again.

James pulled him down into another kiss despite his body telling him to rest. Thomas gave another tiny thrust inside him.

“Wh-what were you going to say?” he panted out.

James licked his lips, his head pleasantly spinning.

“What?”

“Before. You started to say ‘you are,’ and then you stopped.”

James hesitated, but then decided why not just fucking drown. He raised a thumb to Thomas’s lips.

“You are beautiful,” he said.

*

She didn’t like to be interrupted during mealtimes.

Most of the girls understood and respected her wishes, and the merchantmen (or pirates) she had business dealings with quickly learned to respect her wishes and to respect _her_.

So when Max was forced to put down her spoon to answer the door, she was doubly unsettled by the scarred face that greeted her.

Woodes Rogers gave an almost invisible bow.

“Madame Max, is it?”

“Yes,” Max said slowly. “I am at lunch. Can this wait?”

“I’m afraid it’s rather pressing,” said Rogers flatly, showing himself inside her office. Behind him were two armed men whose roaming eyes she did not care for.

“Can we discuss it privately, or does your following need to attend?” she asked, matching his haughty tone.

Rogers motioned for his men to remain outside. Max stiffly made her way to her desk. There was something about Rogers she immediately did not like; something abstract that the gossip about him only added to. This man, she felt, was _not_ like the governor, despite being his second-in-command.

Rogers took a seat across from her. “Tell me,” he said, “how long have you been in charge of this…establishment?”

“Several years.”

“And if I may ask, how did one such as yourself come to hold such a…lofty position, out in the middle of nowhere?”

“You may ask.”

He seemed to think she was jesting, but when Max didn’t answer his question Roger’s lips pinched together in a tight line. He fidgeted with her letter opener.

“I’m sure you are aware that a brothel house holds a particular interest for Governor Hamilton,” he continued. “While it’s certainly true they cover England like a plague, English brothel houses are a necessary evil. They—”

“Mr. Rogers,” Max slid in as politely as she could manage, “I would kindly ask you to arrive at a point soon. My soup is growing cold.”

The look of subtle indignation on Roger’s face at being interrupted made her less irritated at her cold lunch.

“Very well,” said Rogers in a flat tone. “I do not think it would be fitting for this brothel to be run by a woman of Nassau. The governor and I want a new start for Nassau, free of any ties to her sordid past. And, as I’ve been informed this place is a hotbed for dealings under the table and a place for pirates to meet and discuss their business, I’m sure you can see my concern.”

Max clenched and unclenched her fists over her lap.

“I am sure,” she began, “I can understand _your_ concern in this matter, however I was unaware that our new governor held his view. Perhaps I should meet with him to clarify the issue?”

Rogers laughed under his breath, looking at the floor for a beat before looking to her. Ah. Surely he was lying. Hamilton probably did not even know he was here.

“That won’t be necessary,” Rogers said, standing. “I can assure you I speak for him. And to be perfectly blunt, madame, it hardly matters where you are concerned anyway. If this place is to become part of the crown again, I’m afraid there is no place for women in business ventures.”

Max tempered down the mental image of punching Rogers on the scarred side of his face. She rose and smiled at him.

“Well then until that day arrives, I’m afraid there is no place for men of your kind in this establishment.”

She stared at him and did not waver. At last Rogers sneered, a mirthless laugh passing over his lips as he turned and went out the door.

*

James spent the next several days feeling as if he were floating in a dream-like state, with only the hard realities of his job to bring him back to earth. Then when he was done for the day he was floating again, bolstered by pleasing thoughts of Thomas.

He knew he needed to be cautious still. At any moment Thomas could decide to stop seeing him, perhaps recognizing the dangers of growing too close to him. After all, he was a governor now, and how long could they really expect to do this?

The thought nagged at him, made him anxious. And that frightened him more than anything, that this man had affected him so. Yet the thought of no longer being with Thomas was close to unbearable. The siren had called him, multiple times, and he had answered. Yet he had never felt so strongly about what he wanted before.

His thoughts were interrupted by Idelle poking her head into his room, her deep hazel eyes somber.

“It’s Ducat,” she said. “The Sturgeon returned late yesterday. He’s asking for you.”

James inwardly winced. Fuck.

“All right. Tell him I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Idelle gave him the look she always did when Ducat came calling—a gentle smile filled with sympathy.

He went about preparing himself, since Ducat was straight to business. James slicked up his fingers with oil and recalled his last encounter with Thomas—those long, elegant fingers caressing him as softly as a newborn babe, touching him and penetrating him; Thomas filling him, his pale cheeks rosy with heat—

James opened himself until he was ready, then pulled on his pants and went downstairs.

Ducat was there at the bar, his hulk-like profile with all his tattoos showing and grizzly beard impossible to miss. He saw James and gave a predatory smile, then paid for his drink and followed James back upstairs.

James closed and locked the door behind them. The sudden thumping of his pulse behind his ears was his own nerves.

Ducat was already unfastening his belt.

“Fucking hell, what a day I’ve had,” he said. “Listenin’ to those bastards of The Ranger go on about their latest prize. Fuck ‘em. Next time we’re gonna be the ones with the biggest prize for Nassau. Now suck my cock.”

James did as he was told, kneeling on the ground while Ducat leaned against the edge of the bed. No pillows this time. His knees were not what they used to be. He found if he rocked back on his heels it was more comfortable. He took Ducat in his mouth, closing his eyes. He thought of Thomas at first, hoping that would make it better, but instead he found himself repulsed at his own thoughts, thinking of a man who was ten times Ducat’s better while he was sucking the man’s cock.

As soon as Ducat was hard he started fucking into James’s mouth, grabbing James’s hair painfully as he did so. James loosened his jaw and tried to relax his throat as best he could but nothing could stop the punishing pace Ducat always liked.

After what seemed like hours Ducat withdrew from his mouth. James choked back the bile rising in his throat. Ducat leered at him.

“Up with you. Take those fucking pants off,” he commanded.

James did so, bending over the bed. He curled his fists into the sheets, jaw clenched as he waited. Ducat pressed at his hole and slid in. James winced at the burn that followed even though he’d lubricated himself.

“Oh yea, look at that ass,” Ducat moaned as he pushed all the way in. “I’m gonna fuck you raw, you cocksucker.”

*

That night James ate supper and went straight to bed. He was never in a mood to be sociable after visits from Ducat, least of all now.

He was sore, for one thing. That was always a promise with Ducat. As he took off his clothes and put on a fresh pair of worn breeches he eyed the hard bruises forming on either side of his hips; finger-shaped green-gray marks that would be there for the better part of the week. The fucker had clamped down on his neck too this time and the same bruises were forming there.

Yet he’d made more money with Ducat than he had with three or more women customers. Money enough to purchase things other than necessities for himself, even with what was leftover after paying Max.

He’d stopped by her office before retiring for the night to pay her. She knew he’d been with Ducat. She didn’t need to know about his hips, but despite wearing his hair loose she’d seen his neck and cursed the man’s name under her breath and apologized. And as always James told her she had done no wrong. Ducat was not a man to be easily persuaded to do anything, let alone how to properly treat her workers. They’d tried getting rid of him by charging double every time he’d done damage to either one of her girls or to James, but Ducat always seemed to have the money and little care for extra charges.

Once they had tried using muscle against him, hiring pirates of a rival crew to threaten him. That seemed to only aggravate him so that upon his next trip to the brothel he punched James in the face and left another prostitute nearly unconscious.

Simply put, there was no one with either the interest or courage enough to stand up to Ducat.

James reminded himself of that fact, but it didn’t stop him from wanting the brute dead. He thought again about what would happen if another male whore came along, someone who could deflect Ducat’s attention from him. Then he sneered at himself and the terrible thought. He would not wish Ducat on anyone.

James gingerly touched his neck. Jesus, if Thomas saw these bruises…James felt ill again, remembering his time with the governor and then Ducat. He did not deserve someone like Thomas. He had made his bed a long time ago here and now he must continue lying in it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone reading so far! In this chapter Thomas and Max plot together and there's a tiny bit of Maxanne for good measure.

Thomas was glad the fort was close to being repaired at last. They’d had several work stoppages to deal with and some of the older workers demanded more pay. That, of course, had been another issue of contention between himself and Rogers, who firmly believed all the men should have equal pay and not receive higher wages. Thomas had fired back that equal pay did not matter if all pay was poor and half of the workers over fifty suffered physical problems of one kind or another. They had earned the ability to support themselves and their families.

Rogers had frowned out his response, grudgingly ordering the men to dole out more coin to the veteran workers and a small raise to everyone else to keep the peace, grumbling about how they would all be broke come winter.

Thomas ignored him, watching him stomp off with his two favorite companions—one a former navyman now serving as a guard and the other one a bosun for one of their ships. He was certain they were whispering about him to his advisor as they walked away.

Thomas sighed, taking off his hat and wiping at his brow. He would have to keep a closer watch on his second-in-command. He’d heard plenty of stories of treachery occurring when men were far away from civilization.

It was close to dusk before he could put aside the day’s worries. Fingers ink-stained from writing out the first stack of the pardons, he put his quill back in its inkpot and turned to thoughts of James. He missed him. Though it had only been a week since they’d last seen each other Thomas found that each day without the man who had so captivated him felt like its own week.

He ate a small dinner and, on a whim, made his way over to the brothel house. He had come to identify the establishment’s busy times by how many people loitered outside of it, looking for more privacy if the inside tavern was too crowded. It was busy tonight, with a fair number of whores and men laughing and moaning as the torches were lit for the night. His hopes of seeing James fell. No doubt he would be working. Still, perhaps they could plan when next to see each other.

“If you are looking for him, I’m afraid he does not wish to be bothered.”

Thomas startled at the smooth Creole accent behind him. Max was there, dressed in another elegant dress, one hand over the bottom of her corset. Thomas gave a light bow.

“Madame. It’s good to see you again.”

Max smiled, but this time it was terse.

“My lord, I need to speak to you.”

“Can it wait? Are you certain James is unavailable?”

“I had an unexpected visit from Mr. Rogers earlier.”

She had his full attention now. He nodded and they wordlessly went to her office. Thomas listened as she spoke, feeling his face grow redder by the minute. He assured Max that he had given no such word that she be removed from the brothel house.

“That damn bastard,” he hissed. “He is so bent on revenge against me he’s willing to undermine my authority, even if it’s just to piss me off.”

“Here,” said Max, handing him a glass of rum.

Thomas looked at her, surprised. Max raised an eyebrow and one side of her mouth.

“What? You think I always sip daintily from a wine glass? Pfft, please, _mon cher_ , not in Nassau.”

They shared a smile. Thomas raised his glass and downed the small amount of dark liquid.

“Max,” he began at length. “As of right now Rogers has taken no action against me, but I wonder if that should change. Would you be willing to…keep an eye on him, even if he is not here?”

“I was just thinking the same, my lord,” said Max.

Thomas sat his glass down and gently took her hand in his.

“I give you my word, I shall make no plans that would upset you or your business here, not without consulting you first. If Rogers returns with more idle threats, I expect to be informed.”

Max raised her glass and gave him a silent toast.

“You are very kind, my lord. I shall see to it.”

“Now,” said Thomas, “about James…”

*

Thomas rapped gently on James’s door. Max had said he was not feeling well. Nothing serious, she had assured him, just some passing thing, perhaps from spoilt food. Still Thomas felt compelled to check on him and offer him whatever comfort he could. His chest ached at the thought of James suffering in any capacity. It was clear the man had already suffered so much, despite his reluctance to talk about his past.

“James?” Thomas said softly, peeking his head in through the door.

James was in bed, covered up but not asleep. He rolled over and raised his head, seeing Thomas.

“What are you doing here?” he huffed out, rolling over and pulling the covers even tighter around his neck.

Thomas chuckled and entered.

“Now here’s a side I’d never thought I’d see of you,” he mused. “The grumpy ginger, unwilling to be roused from his sheets. I came to see how you were doing. Max said you were ill.”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

The reply was overtly curt. Thomas’s mirth fell away.

“James? Why are you wrapped up so? It’s still warm outside. Are you certain you’re all right?”

James huffed out another breath.

“Yes, for god’s sake. Please, don’t come any closer.”

Well. Thomas automatically came closer, feeling more and more as though something were wrong.

“If you are concealing a wound of some kind you’d best get it looked at—”

James sat up in bed, looking almost…frightened?

“Thomas please, stay away. I told you, I’m not well, I don’t want you to get sick…”

Thomas stood at the edge of the bed. James seemed to cower from him, holding the sheets tight against what Thomas assumed was a nude body underneath.

“What is wrong?” Thomas asked softly. “What—”

He stopped. There were bruises on James’s neck. They were distinctly shaped. His concern tripled.

“What happened?”

James flinched away from him when Thomas moved to touch his neck.

“It’s nothing,” James said flatly, looking away from him. “Just a rough client. That’s all.”

“It is not nothing,” Thomas said.

He took hold of the sheets. James did not stop him as he pulled them away. Rather he seemed to go limp, his resistance giving way. He was nude, with one knee bent. There were even more bruises, clear as day, marring his hips. They were vaguely shaped like fingers. It would have taken strong hands to leave bruises on James’s body. Strong hands attached to a strong body, to have…to have…

“There, you see now,” James snapped at him, yanking the covers back over himself and rolling away from Thomas.

“It’s just…part of the job, sometimes,” he said after a moment, voice unsteady.

Thomas was shaking. He clenched and unclenched his fists, heart pounding in his chest.

“Who did this to you?” he asked in a hot whisper.

“His name is Ducat. He’s a regular of mine,” James said, still turned away from him, ringing off the information as though Thomas had asked him about the weather and not the name of a man who had, he was certain, _raped_ him, even if James had allowed it.

Anger flared to life in him and evolved into fury as unwanted images of the drunken pirate on the beach touching James assaulted his mind.

“Ducat,” he breath out slowly, his face hot and fists shaking.

“Yes,” James mumbled. “And now if you don’t mind I’d like to be alone,” he added, his shoulder moving as he pulled the sheet tight around him again as if to protect himself. Long seconds ticked by before Thomas could respond. His closed his eyes.

“Very well.”

He turned and left. As soon as the door shut behind him the fury returned.

*

James had to fight the powerful urge to call Thomas to him instead of pushing him away. When the door clicked shut behind the governor he finally turned to face the empty room.

The bitterness he thought he’d squashed long ago rose up sharply like bile. He hated Ducat. He hated working here. He hated the shapeless, faceless wigged men of England who had forced him from his home, never to return to it again.

He loved Thomas.

The words took flawless shape in his mind, coalescing into a perfect fit that he immediately accepted. Hot on the heels of it was another realization: the cost of such an alluring treasure. Despair soon joined his bitterness. 

*

“I want him out of the fucking picture,” Thomas said with no room for her to argue as he paced like a caged dog in Max’s office.

But Max hardly appeared to disagree. Hands on both her hips, her nostrils flared with her own anger over Ducat.

It had pleased him that she seemed genuine in this rare display of emotion, but they had arrived at an impasse in terms of how to fix the problem.

“You think I have not considered and tried to get rid of him?” she asked, voice raised slightly. “I would love nothing more that to be rid of that monster once and for all. The damage he has done here…”

Max actually sneered.

“He has gotten away with too much, and yet my power only stretches so far, Mr. Hamilton. Ducat is a well-known and powerful crew member.”

Thomas’s anger tempered as he began to think.

“And paying rival crews to dispatch him…?”

“He survived the first attempt and was tipped off before I had a second chance,” Max replied.

“Well, I can provide my own men for guaranteed success, if you can provide the…opportunity where they would have the best advantage,” he said.

He caught the look of mild surprise on her face. Here he was, the new governor of this island, promising pardons and a new beginning, plotting a murder. It was his first time.

Thomas didn’t have to think twice about it, not in this case.

“What he did to James—” he said slowly, “Is unacceptable to me.”

Their eyes met. Thomas answered her question in their shared look as much as he did with his words. Her eyebrows drew up.

“He is very lucky to have you,” she said softly. “I am grateful for you as well. He deserves…well, he deserves more than what life has given him, I think we can agree.”

Thomas nodded, suddenly overcome.

“Thank you.”

When he left her office some time later it was with a plan put into place that would rid them of the vile Ducat once and for all.

*

She didn’t have to wait long for Ducat to make another appearance. The Sturgeon was loading up supplies for another hunting trip in a few days, and she knew the brute of a man would be ready for one more go at it before he left.

It was easy enough to convince him of it. As a reward for all the coin he had spent in the brothel house, he and some of his brothers would get a special treat, outside on the beach and in a fuck tent. But Ducat would be first.

She took him out to the beach herself after nightfall. She had grown used to his lewd passes at her, but Max always carried a well-sharpened knife sheathed just inside her corset.

Ducat knew of its presence. Yet Max knew she could never hope to best him should he seriously consider attacking her. It was the promise of others coming to her aid—her “eyes” that were all around—that kept him at bay.

They made their way down past the dunes on the far eastern side of where most of the pirate’s activities took place. This area was deserted. Max worried over this, wondering if Ducat would question it, but as she had hoped he had already been drinking and wasn’t paying attention. He asked her how long he would get to enjoy his “special treat” and what it would cost him.

Max answered in her usual business tone. They arrived at the tent.

“Three girls, all for you,” she said, waving a hand at the tent.

Ducat grinned broadly, loosening his belt as he pulled back the canvas flap.

“Well, let’s get to it then,” he leered.

He paused just inside. There was a second wall of canvas and a second opening inside the tent. Max nodded reassuringly, stepping away and closing the first flap. Seconds later Ducat cursed loudly, once, then twice. There were the sounds of struggle and the distinct sound of blades slicing. Max winced. She never liked to envision the bloodier aspects of living on an island full of pirates, but neither did it turn her stomach.

Moments later she gave a sigh of relief when two of Governor Hamilton’s men emerged, each with a bloody sword, nodding at her. They had made the killing blows, but it was Anne Bonny, the third figure who emerged from the tent, who had landed the first, deceptive cut.

She was wearing a cloak over her usual attire and was hatless, exposing her long and gorgeous auburn hair. She wiped her bloodied short sword and re-sheathed it.

“Thank goodness,” Max muttered in French to her.

“Just glad you didn’t make me wear a fucking dress,” mused Anne.

No one could make her smile quite like Anne. Anne immediately moved in and met her lips. Max’s fingers tenderly touched her jaw and face. Anne brushed her knuckles under Max’s chin as she pulled away.

“I’m fine,” said Anne. “And that asshole is dead.”

Max thanked the governor’s men, who accepted her pay.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Roger is just the Worst, James is in love and conflicted but Thomas is determined and I throw in some erotic bathing because who doesn't like erotic bathing?  
> Kudos and comments are still craved. :)

The bosun found Rogers their usual tavern, speaking with a few locals. As soon as they dispersed he slid in across from the other man.

“I kept an eye on the queen whore like you asked,” said the man. Rogers abruptly put a finger to his lips. They left the tavern.

“I sense Hamilton has been watching me,” he explained when they were away from the crowd. “And there are always ears to go with eyes. Now, what is it?”

“The madame. Last night she led one of the pirates out to one of those fuck tents.”

Rogers made a disdainful face.

“…And she had him killed by three others,” his man continued.

“Why?”

The man shrugged.

“Didn’t care for ‘im, was all I learned. But, I went inside after them and thought _this_ might be useful. Found it on the pirate’s person.”

He pulled out a long and mean-looking dagger, its blade glinting off the moonlight.

“The dead pirate was the same pirate I told you I saw with Hamilton on the beach some nights ago,” he added.

Rogers took it, flipping it this way and that as he thought.

“You said it appeared as though the pirate was threatening our governor, yes?”

The man nodded, the glint in his eyes echoing that of the moonlit blade in Roger’s hand.

“Well, I warned him this place was dangerous,” said Rogers, still eyeing the dagger. He flashed a look to the other man, who smiled and nodded.

*

Sleep would not come to him.

James tossed and turned in his bed. Too many thoughts swirled around and around in his mind, chasing away sleep. He agonized over another visit from Ducat. He felt like an asshole for his cold treatment of Thomas. He imagined the governor with him now, curled up against him and holding him tight. Then he banished such a thought. Perhaps his cold treatment earlier would cause at least one of them to come to their senses, and Thomas would not return to him.

He groaned, flipping onto his back as the thought of Thomas disappearing from his life felt like a physical wound, sore and gaping.

He yanked off the covers and splashed cool water on his face, then threw on some clothes. He felt suffocated in this stuffy room. He needed some air.

It was late and the tavern below was quiet as he opened and quietly closed his door. There were still the usual few moans and sounds of sex coming from the long corridor of inn rooms around him. As he turned left towards the stairs he stopped short. Governor Hamilton stood at the railing, looking downstairs. He was still fully dressed in all his lordly splendor, even at this hour. He was a vision. He turned when he heard James.

“James,” he said with a silken voice.

“What are you doing here? At this hour?”

“Thinking mostly,” said Thomas as James came to stand beside him.

James grunted, not trusting himself to speculate on just what thoughts would trouble the governor for him to come here and ponder them.

It wasn’t long before he felt Thomas’s eyes on him. He knew his neck was exposed in the simple and loose shirt he wore, and he felt those jewel-blue eyes there.

“I’m sorry,” James blurted out. “I’m sorry I was unkind before. But…there are aspects of my work that are not meant…for someone like you to see.”

Thomas cocked his head.

“Someone like me? What do you mean by that?”

James felt his face redden. He licked his lips. Fuck. Fuck. He huffed out a sigh.

“It’s becoming increasingly difficult for me to find the words to describe our relationship,” he blurted out again, like a goat too stupid to understand when to shut up. “I…care…about you. And I know you care about me.”

He turned to face Thomas.

“But I think we both know this cannot go on indefinitely. You have many things that require your attention in this place. I’m afraid I will only ever wind up adding to your list of problems, regardless of our feelings. And if word were to get out that the new governor of Nassau is bedding a man, and a whore no less, you might face ruin.”

James looked back out at the tavern below them, clutching to the wooden balcony railing for life support as he forced out the words.

“I would not see that happen to you, ever. You’re a good man. I will defend that, always. But…we cannot be together like this.”

The silence that followed on the heels of his confessions felt like a tangle of sharp briars, slicing the air between them and constricting his chest. Thomas moved closer and laid a warm hand over his angry fist.

“Come with me to the governor’s mansion,” he said, voice full of something akin to vigor; bright and full.

James looked at him, blinking in confusion.

“What?”

“Right now. I can provide you with food and some clothes and whatever else you may need. Please.”

James laughed in disbelief.

“Did you hear me? I just told you we cannot do _any_ of those things, Thomas!”

Thomas clasped a hand to James’s face, cradling his jaw. The sudden contact made James’s skin tingle pleasantly. Thomas’s eyes bore into his with intent. He closed them briefly.

“Please, James. I will beg you if I have to. Stay the night with me. And if you still feel this way in the morning, I promise I will stop pursuing you.”

James sucked in a breath and opened his mouth but no words came out. Thomas had fought his way through the invisible briars between them so that the air was filled with his face and his scent and James could think of nothing else. He reached up and clasped his hand over Thomas’s. Their lips were inches apart.

“Tell me that everything you just spoke of is what you _want_ , that you truly believe we cannot have a future together,” pressed Thomas.

James felt his resolve wavering. He’d spoke of the logical truth of it all and Thomas had not denied a word of it. And yet he still yearned for all that Thomas’s eyes were promising him, wanted it as he had never wanted anything before in his life.

“All right, I’ll go with you.”

And just like that he was practically being pulled along by Thomas and whisked downstairs in his underclothes and shoes by the well-dressed governor. He glanced over to the bar and saw Mrs. Mapleton, the brothel’s innkeep, cleaning tables. She was openly staring at them as they left the stairs, mouth slightly ajar.

“Tell Max I’ll be back tomorrow if she asks,” he said as they swiftly walked by her, his hand attached to Thomas’s like glue.

*

He had never seen the interior of the governor’s mansion but he knew it had been much changed since Thomas’s arrival. Everything was clean and in order, with evidence of carpentry and various other works under construction still evident. The household was still and quiet until they went upstairs. There was a servant there, carrying a single lit candle down the hallway. He nodded and bowed.

“My lord,” he said. He didn’t seem remotely surprised at James’s presence.

“James this is Cedric, my longest and most trusted servant. We are retiring for the night, Cedric. See to it we are not disturbed.”

Cedric nodded.

“Yes sir, consider it done.”

James guessed that there was a wealth of unspoken assumptions in not being ‘disturbed’ that passed between the two of them and he felt his sudden panic subsiding.

The master bedchamber was massive and colored in cerulean blue. The bed itself was also massive, high off the ground and framed by golden posts and a sheer white curtain.

“Jesus Christ,” James said. “Are you certain you’re not really a king in disguise?”

Thomas gave a delighted chuckle.

“Honestly this room is still in its original setting, except for the new paint and my own desk and dresser. Governor Chadwick, I’m told, was the one who had the mansion built, back in 1674.

“And this?” said James, approaching a miniature replica of a nude Greek statue on top of his dresser. James recognized it from his past readings.

“Is this little Dionysus part of the original setting?” he asked in a dubious tone and a little grin at Thomas.

“Well, no,” Thomas admitted, returning his grin.

James smirked more broadly.

“It suits you. A god who was a freer of emotions, a remover of inhibitions,” he replied.

He was rewarded with an impressive quirk of Thomas’s eyebrow.

“Yes, and I can easily pass him off as his Roman counterpart Bacchus and claim he’s just the God of Wine to the ignorant. Wealthy lords who drink too much find it particularly clever. Now, what can I do for you?”

“You wish to serve me?” James asked, feeling unexpectedly mirthful with the two of them alone in this giant and plush room.

“I do,” said Thomas in a stately tone, looking mirthful himself.

“Perhaps a sponge bath?” he offered.

James started.

“Charlotte and Idelle love giving me sponge baths at the brothel. Though I confess I’ve never had the offer from a man before.”

“Oh, delightful!” said Thomas.

“But it’s far too late to fetch enough water,” said James.

“Not to worry. It doesn’t have to be a bath, perhaps just some water and a sponge. Now, take off your clothes and go sit in that tub.”

James followed Thomas’s finger to a dressing board. Behind it was a full-sized metal tub. He did as he was bade and sat in it, feeling a bit silly in an empty tub, but Thomas returned soon enough with not one but two buckets and a sponge. He poured both buckets of water in the tub and James was surprised to find it had been heated. The sentiment that Thomas had bothered to place hot coals under it made his heart sigh happily.

James leaned against the tub and Thomas soaked the sponge, bringing it to his legs first. The sponge was firm but still felt pleasant against his skin. Thomas proved to be very thorough in his sponging. James had expected this exercise to lead straight to sex, but rather both men seemed to enjoy their tasks; Thomas stroking him gently with the sponge (which James found semi-erotic anyway), and he simply lying there and enjoying it.

Thomas worked on the underside of his legs, then up to his thighs and hipbones. As he’d expected James found himself growing hard then. He watched Thomas’s face. Thomas looked at his naked skin with nothing but adoration, gently wringing out the sponge over his cock but not touching it. The sponge found its way over the faint but still visible bruises on James’s hips. James flinched, expecting Thomas to comment and withdraw. Thomas did neither, though James caught the shadow that crossed his face nonetheless.

Thomas sponged down his stomach and chest and then his arms. He dragged the sponge slow over James’s throat and neck, scraping it against the bottom of his ruddy-red beard. James felt an overwhelming urge to kiss him. He pulled on Thomas’s arm, bringing him in close. Thomas’s lips fell over his and the sensation sent goosebumps all over his flesh. He opened his mouth for more and Thomas complied, kissing him deep and slow and letting out a little moan.

“If the English worshipped multiple gods I can easily see you as one,” Thomas mused, pulling back and licking his lips, eyes heavy.

James grinned.

“The thickness of you,” continued Thomas, “those strong arms and strong thighs, chiseled out to perfection.”

James sighed heavily. His cock was wanting but…

“I’m afraid I’m too tired for any more of that talk,” he said regretfully.

“Then you should rest,” said Thomas.

He left the tub and dried off. He climbed up into the large bed and stretched out.

“If you prefer I can sleep in one of the guest rooms,” said Thomas.

James shot up.

“No! I mean, please stay.”

Thomas smiled almost shyly. He undressed down to his breeches and crawled in behind James. James pulled him in close, wrapping Thomas’s bare arm over to his chest. Thomas instantly molded himself against James’s backside. Never before had James felt so secure.

They dozed on and off for an undeterminable amount of time. James was happy not to care what time it was. All he cared about was the body pressed close to his, the lips and nose against the back of his neck.

When next he stirred he rolled over on his back. Thomas had also drifted off to sleep beside him but now two blue eyes met his. James reached over and brushed his thumb along Thomas’s lips. Thomas parted them and James’s thumb slipped inside. Thomas closed his lips around him, engulfing his thumb inside and sucking. James hummed deeply as Thomas’s tongue wiggled around him. James pulled his thumb out and pressed it back in again, repeating the motion and watching as Thomas’s gaze turned heavy again.

Thomas moved to loom over top him. He kissed James’s sternum, moving his lips along until he sucked on a nipple. James slid his fingers through the soft yellow hair, feeling the back of Thomas’s head as Thomas sucked on each of his nipples until they were sore and hard. It made his cock twitch from where it lay on his hip.

Thomas reached down between them and put his own cock against James’s. James’s eyes slid closed as Thomas began sensually rutting over him, bare stomach pressed into his own.

The sensation of a man’s body over his, not demanding but wanting, giving as much as receiving, was perhaps the most erotic experience James could ever remember. He let his hands wonder over Thomas’s smooth sides, squeezing over his rump and gliding back up again the way he would have done to a woman. Yet Thomas, for all his fairness and softness, was not a woman. The shapes of the muscles in his arms and thighs, the smattering of thick hair on his chest and the swollen cock rubbing against James’s own were constant reminders.

When Thomas entered him James was watching his face for the first time without shame. He loved how Thomas’s eyes fluttered closed and his flushed lips parted. James was flooded with warmth and thick hardness between his legs. Thomas sealed their lips together as he began moving inside him.

James wondered again how long this bliss could last. There were so many things he wanted to talk about with Thomas, to show him, to do with him…

“Thomas,” he panted out.

Thomas gave a single, deep thrust of his cock, playfully biting his lip.

“Yes?”

“I want to…can we switch?”

Thomas dismounted him and lay on his back. James grinned at the mild look of surprise on his face when James straddled his thighs, sitting over him rather than lying over him. He reached behind and took hold of Thomas’s cock, sliding it inside him again.

“Ohhh,” Thomas moaned, biting his lip again.

“Is this all right?” asked James.

Thomas quickly nodded.

“Yes, please, I love this idea.”

James felt a rush of control as he fucked himself over Thomas’s cock, forcing little moans and grunts from the other man. James entwined their fingers together and pushed Thomas’s arms above his head, kissing him as their bodies danced together.

“Hm, I think you are the siren upon the rock today,” Thomas murmured dreamily at him. James smiled to himself as he sucked over the pulse on Thomas’s neck and thrust his hips forward, clenching over the hard cock filling him.

*

He heard his name.

It was not a noise as one in the throes of passion but rather a sound of distress…

The sleep tumbled away from him all at once as he was jarred physically from sleep. Upon opening his eyes he saw a third figure struggling over Thomas in the bed. He wielded a dagger as Thomas fought to keep the sharp blade from edging any closer.

James lunged up and over, grabbing the assailant’s arm with both hands and shoving him backwards off the bed. Seconds later James was on top of him as the intruder tired to rise. He kneed James hard in the stomach, clutching the dagger in a stabbing motion. James dodged out of the way and knocked the man hard on the back with two fists like a club. The assailant cried out and went down again. James picked up the dagger as it clattered to the floor. As the man turned over on his back James drove the dagger through his throat. The snarl on the man’s face quickly turned into wide-eyed shock. James pressed the dagger into his throat with his full weight; until the would-be assassin moved no more, save for a gush of scarlet coming from his throat.

“James.”

Blinking, James tore his eyes away from the dead man. Thomas stood by the bed, pistol dangling in his hand. He turned a pair of bewildered blue eyes to James. James stumbled up, feeling the blood rush to his head. He stepped over the body and touched Thomas’s shoulder, looking him over.

“Are you harmed?”

“No. And you?”

James shook his head.

“Is he dead?” Thomas asked.

“He is.”

Thomas let out a shaking breath. James tried to even out his own breathing, heart still thudding in his ears and blood pumping hot.

“Do you recognize him?” he asked.

Thomas squatted next to the dead man.

“Here,” said James, quickly lighting what was left of a candle and handing it to Thomas. Thomas took it, revealing more of their assailant.

“Yes, I’m afraid,” replied Thomas. “His name is Joseph Pembry, an ex-militia man and part of my entourage.”

Thomas rose, letting out another breath and raking his hand through his hair.

“Well why the fuck was he trying to murder you?” James asked.

“I don’t know!”

Both of them frustrated, they let the silence fill the air. James’s mind was spinning. Thomas’s voice cut through the room.

“Thank you, for saving me.”

It went straight to James’s heart. He managed a smile and nodded, but he was too rattled to return the tender-voiced sentiment just now.

“His dagger,” James said suddenly, looking to where the candlelight revealed the man’s weapon, lying next a foot or so from the man’s head, where James had dropped it. He picked it back up. Thomas moved the candle in front of it.

“I recognize this,” said James. “It belongs to Ducat.”

Something flitted across the blonde’s features on hearing the name.

“Are you certain?” Thomas asked.

“Yes. The carvings on the hilt are his own. Many pirates like to personalize their weapons. But why the fuck would this… _Pembry_ have a pirate’s dagger?”

Thomas moved and sat heavily on the bed behind James.

“Fuck,” he muttered. Then louder, “Fuck!”

“What? What is it?”

Thomas sat the candle in a holder on the table and looked darkly up at James, lips tight.

“Was it Rogers?” James asked slowly, sitting down beside him. “It was, wasn’t it? He and this man somehow convinced that bastard Ducat to aid in trying to kill you—”

“No, Ducat wasn’t involved.”

“But he had to have been. There’s no other way someone could have gotten this dagger—”

James stopped himself, mind now travelling faster than his words. Thomas was watching him, his expression unreadable.

“Ducat is dead,” he said. “I had him killed.”

_“What?”_

Thomas sucked in a breath.

“The pirate you speak of, is he of the ship The Sturgeon?”

“Yes…”

“And the same Ducat who gave you those bruises?”

James looked away, not answering.

“Then he is dead,” said Thomas. “When I realized the same pirate who had threatened me on the beach some weeks ago was the one who had hurt you, I…well I lost all reason about it. I spoke to Max and the two of us decided, well, that we’d had enough of him. The thought of him touching you like that, of hurting you…”

Thomas stopped. James looked over at him. Thomas was staring ahead, jaw clenched and _angry,_ even now, with a different dead man in the room and Ducat only a memory now.

James wasn’t sure how to process the fact that someone had killed for him. He wanted to kill Woodes Rogers.

“Rogers,” he said at last, breaking the heavy silence.

Thomas blinked as if coming out of a reverie. He stood and ran a hand through his hair again.

“I need to find the bastard. I’ll get Cedric to take of this. I’m going to Rogers’ quarters first.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“I appreciate that, however I think it’s best—”

_“I am coming. With you.”_

James stood next to him, upset that Thomas would even think otherwise.

“If this Rogers is dangerous enough to send men to kill you, you are going to need someone you can trust with you.”

Thomas nodded slowly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. His eyes brightened and softened.

“Very well.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter, in which James and Thomas must stop Rogers before he comes to Nassau with a fleet to overtake it and rid himself of Thomas. James's inner pirate is unleashed. Thomas makes James a surprising offer. And someone new arrives at the island. ;)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's made this E-rated fic a surprising success!! I love you all and I love you even more when you leave comments. Until next time, fair winds and following seas. 
> 
> Come say hi to me on tumblr @iwt-v. :)

Rogers wasn’t in his quarters in the mansion. James followed and watched as Thomas demanded answers from all his men, rousing them from their beds somewhat spooked, but all confessed to not having the slightest idea where Rogers would be at this late hour, save for perhaps the tavern he frequented. Or the brothel-house.

James insisted they go there next. If anyone knew of Roger’s whereabouts or what he was up to, one of Max’s girls would know.

Instead, it an unlikely source had the answers they sought.

Thomas watched from a small distance as James engaged a pirate named Billy Bones just outside the brothel. Thomas found himself gawking at the other man several times. He could not help it. The man was _huge_ , with arms twice as thick as even James’s and quite well sculpted. But he was young, Thomas discerned as he watched them, probably not even thirty. Yet it was the manner in which he and James spoke that most interested Thomas. It was clear the two of them knew each other. There was a kind of frustration in the young pirate, yet he looked directly at James as they spoke and James seemed to be acquiescing to Billy. Before he returned to Thomas he clasped a hand around one of those massive arms.

“He made for the docks with a skeleton crew, barely an hour ago,” said James. “And if the navy is still in port at Harbour Island there’s a good chance he’s going to get reinforcements and come back.”

“Fuck!”

They wasted no time in procuring a horse (Thomas made another mental note to return it later with apologies) and galloped towards the shoreline. As soon as they arrived Thomas scanned all the docks, lit up with a combination of many lantern lights and the moonlight.

The dock were his own flagship should have been anchored was filled only with the sea.

“There!” said James, pointing.

The stern end of Thomas’s ship was making haste through the water in Nassau’s bay, almost to the open sea.

Thomas cursed again.

“How badly does he want your title?” asked James.

“He’s determined,” answered Thomas darkly. “With all the debt he’s procured, a station such as mine would easily help him wipe his slate clean.”

“I can help you,” said James, turning to him. “I know how to rouse the pirate crews. This could even be your opportunity to get them to believe in you.”

“James, I do not expect this from you. You have done so much for me already.”

Thomas swallowed thickly and looked down at the sand at his feet. If this was to go badly then so be it…but James took his hand in his own and squeezed.

“Your enemies are my enemies. Please, let me help you.”

*

Charles Vane snorted.

“This is fucking mad. But if it is as you say, and none of those ships at Harbour Island are man o’ wars, and your man here…” Vane pointed to Thomas, “can guarantee us no reprisals will come against us, I see no reason not to attempt this.”

“Yes,” said Jack Rackham, sliding off the desk he’d been sitting on in the cabin of The Ranger, “ _If_ and only if we have it in writing that our good governor here will not either hang us all or force us into some kind of servitude after we dutifully defend his island.”

Thomas laid a piece of paper down on the desk, sliding it over to Jack.

“There it is,” said Thomas smoothly. “I already considered it and had it drawn up. An accord and my personal guarantee no pirate who participates in this will face any kind of reprisals. To the contrary, you will all receive pardons without hesitation for protecting your new governor against a renegade traitor who sought to overthrow me through devious means.”

James glanced around at the gathered faces, enjoying the shared looks of surprise, especially from Captain Rackham, who looked over the paper.

“Well then,” he said.

“And how, exactly,” John Silver spoke up, thumping up next to Thomas on his crutch, “Will you be able to convince your colleagues of this accord? Forgive me, Governor Hamilton, but although I appreciate your effort, I’m afraid I don’t trust England’s other officials as far as I can throw them.”

“Leave them to me,” said Thomas. “It will take a lot of convincing and repeating myself half a dozen times, but that burden is on me. And as long as you and your brethren hold up your end of the bargain and defend this place, my argument to them will remain sound. I have several colleagues—friends—in office there, and they will help to persuade the others.”

Silver eyed him a long moment before finally nodding.

“All right then. Count The Walrus in.”

James cleared his throat.

“Oh yes,” said Thomas. “About your ship, Mr. Silver. I hope you don’t mind sharing your captaincy this one time?”

Silver blinked, looking between Thomas and James, then narrowing his eyes on James. Charles chuckled, lighting up a cheroot. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered.

James smiled brazenly at him, then turned the smile to Silver, trying to temper it. Silver opened his mouth but James beat him to it.

“If this battle is to be completely successful, meaning if we are not only to drive away the navy defectors, as the governor will call them, but also capture Woodes Rogers, then this endeavor will need my naval expertise.”

Silver huffed out a sigh and rolled his eyes. “Very well,” he conceded. “Just don’t get too comfortable on my ship.”

James grinned at him again.

*

When the alarm sounded through the collective crow’s nests of pirate ships that Woodes Rogers was sighted, they were ready.

James emerged from the cabin with Silver. He frowned when he saw Thomas on deck.

“My lord, it’s not safe for you here,” he said, aware of all the eyes around them. “You need to return to shore.”

“Nonsense,” Thomas replied smoothly. “This whole venture is my idea and I’d like to witness it.”

James’s frowned deepened. He gently took Thomas by the elbow and pulled him aside. Thomas was chortling under his breath at the move.

“James, whatever it is you’re going to say, I’m staying. Your enemies are my enemies.”

James huffed out a sigh.

“I had a feeling you’d say that. Very well. But you _will_ stay in the captain’s cabin if and when Rogers engages us, yes?”

Thomas’s lips curved upwards. “I like how you make that a command and a question all at once. Yes, I’ll abide by your terms, captain.”

James smiled, rather liking Thomas calling him by that title.

“I once aspired to that title,” he mused, “long ago. I never thought I’d hear someone use it, least of all someone I care for.”

James was almost embarrassed at how transparent Thomas’s face was then, the way his heart seemed to visibly flutter at the unintended compliment. James was always fearful of sounding too humble with such things but even now, standing on the deck of a pirate ship in broad daylight James could feel the bond between them. Feeling unusually optimistic, he imagined it as the thickest of ropes running between them, nigh unbreakable.

In a few more minutes they were able to discern that Rogers had indeed been busy; he brought with him three third-of-the-line ships. Their intelligence had held, however, and none of them were the dreaded man o’ wars.

Vane signaled to him from the deck of The Ranger to the left of The Walrus. To the right was Rackham’s ship The Colonial Dawn. James turned and signaled to Rackham. A moment later Jack signaled back he was ready. James nodded to Silver beside him. Without meaning to, both of them yelled out, “Guns at the ready!”

“Now just a fucking minute,” Silver said. “You may be calling the shots here but at least allow me to command my own ship.”

James tried not to smirk.

“Apologies. From now on you can do the yelling.”

“You shit,” Silver muttered under his breath, though his eyes were soft.

In another time James fancied the two of them could have been friends.

He refocused his attention on the approaching fleet. As Rogers drew near James raised an open palm, signaling for the other pirate ships to wait. They had promised the governor they would give Rogers the benefit of a doubt; a chance to raise the white and surrender. James didn’t expect him to do so. Rogers didn’t disappoint.

His ships began forming attack positions, gun ports rising. James had spent the night before recalling as much of his naval training as possible. He was nervous but confident. The moment he gave the order to Silver to fire, a strange calm descended on him.

Rogers attempted to avoid the blockade by navigating the flagship around the island but James had anticipated that move. He gave the signal for Rackham’s ship to pursue. Soon enough the sound and smells of cannon fire and gunpowder and hardy men yelling and the click of pistols filled his world. He saw how most of the crew followed his command without question, some looking at him with surprise and some in awe. As the space and sea between the warring ships grew smaller and smaller James found that some of the men even looked at him in fear.

His voice had become deep and deafening to his own ears. He was not yelling out commands nor moving about the ship as a naval lieutenant. He’d forgotten how they moved and spoke long ago.

At last the flagship re-appeared on the other side of the island. The moment it was sighted James quickly took stock of the ship they had been firing on. Its damage was great enough for them to leave it to the smaller Ranger while they pursued Rogers.

James marched up to the bow of The Walrus, grabbing a hold of a line at its very end as they gained on Rogers’ ship.

“Come on you bitch, come on,” he growled out between his teeth.

The small gun sloops they had at their disposal closed in on Rogers from the opposite side, trapping him. Through the spyglass James finally spotted the man himself, giving out orders and bravely staring down The Walrus, perhaps looking right at James. Gunfire erupted as the two ships drew close enough to board.

James looked back to the cabin, suddenly needing to check on Thomas.

“I’m right here James.”

James whirled around. Thomas had taken off his long coat and hat, sleeves rolled up and sword in hand. James blinked.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Moving in for the kill, so to speak,” said Thomas, scarcely taking his eyes off Rogers’ ship. He looked twice, however, when James continued to stare at him.

“Come now. You didn’t think I’d spend the entire battle cowering under your bunk did you? I’m not that kind of governor.”

Something bright and fiery lit inside James. He wanted to crush Thomas to him and kiss him. Instead he merely nodded.

They stayed side by side as The Walrus drew near the flagship. Rogers’ men let out a volley of swivel gun fire in a last-ditch attempt at repelling them. James yanked Thomas down beside him against the side of the ship as small but deadly cannonballs crashed around them. James rose, needing the chaos of the moment to rally the men for boarding. He stood and yelled out the order, making sure that grappling hooks were going over as well. Silver order a round of smoke grenades launched onto the flagship’s deck. Once the deck was consumed in white smoke, they crossed the planks.

They were engaged in hand-to-hand combat briefly, but the will to fight quickly left Rogers’ remaining men and they surrendered.

Thomas burst inside the cabin door with James hot on his heels. Rogers sat calmly behind his desk, rising as they entered. He looked defiant but offered no resistance.

“I suppose you’re quite pleased with yourself,” he told Thomas as Thomas stripped him of his weapons belt and pistol.

“Shutup,” said Thomas.

Rogers sneered at him.

“I could have made this place something worthwhile, you know I could have.”

Thomas took the twine from James and wrapped it around Rogers’ wrists.

“What I _know,_ ” Thomas said sharply, “is that any man who stoops so low as to attempt to murder his superior and procure money through any means necessary would never endure as governor.”

Rogers scoffed.

“Forever the idealist, aren’t you? Idealism in a place like this is madness. You’ll find that out the hard way.”

The certainty with which Rogers spoke made Thomas pause despite himself, looking Rogers in the eye.

James stepped forward, roughly grabbing Rogers bound wrists.

“It’s men like you that are the reason for so many ills in this world,” he snarled into Rogers’ face. “Intolerant and selfish men, unwilling to allow people to live in peace, as they wish, to always crack the whip because you think there are always people beneath you who deserve its sting.”

James felt the words more strongly as he spoke them. Rogers flinched, trying to draw away from him. Thomas’s fingers brushed his shoulder. James realized he had Rogers bent backwards over the desk and that his fists were clenched. He eased back and Rogers looked visibly relieved for an instant before his face went cold again.

“He will never understand,” Thomas said once they were on shore again and his own men took Rogers into custody, heading for Nassau Fort.

“I know,” said James. “But in that moment, I wanted to try.”

An arm wrapped around his waist and squeezed gently.

*

When he was done with Rogers Thomas worked his way back to the docks. Though the light was fading from the sky he could still see James standing on deck, speaking with Captain Silver.

Something primal and raw stirred in him. James, with the Spanish coat still on and hair tied back, fingers tapping over his sword hilt, looked like…a pirate? A navy officer? Thomas wasn’t certain if it was even either of those things. He looked completely in his element for the first time since Thomas had known him. Perhaps that was the origin of the stirring in him as he climbed on the deck of The Walrus.

He bade a brief greeting to Silver, who was off to the tavern to wait on the governor’s promises, to be announced tomorrow morning. Thomas smiled wryly at him. Then there was only he and James on deck.

James stood with his hands behind his back. In that moment as the sinking sun left everything coated in a fiery yellow-pink, Thomas could easily see the proud naval officer of years ago before him; he could even picture James clean-shaven, longer gorgeous hair pulled back and hiding under a black tricorne hat. He felt a small wave of sadness wash over him for what had happened to the man, but he also could not help but think that perhaps James was meant to be here, now, and by his side.

James smiled at him as he approached.

“Is Rogers nice and comfy in his prison cell?” he asked.

“I suspect not, but he has time to adjust,” replied Thomas. He could not keep his eyes from moving all over James’s body. He came in close, lightly hooking James’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. James panicked for a few precious seconds, eyes trying to glance around them before he realized what Thomas already knew, that they were alone. His jade eyes sofened and he relaxed into the kiss. With his fingertips Thomas felt the fabric of the heavy black coat he wore. He imagined...

“James,” he said in a low voice.

James reluctantly pulled away from his lips to look at him.

“Mmm. Yes?”

“May I see you inside your quarters before you disembark, _captain?_ ” Thomas asked, feeling himself smile at the title. James echoed it as he followed Thomas into the cabin, shutting the door behind him. Thomas took the extra step and locked it.

*

Once inside the cabin and feeling a bit more comfortable James inhaled deeply Thomas’s scent, arms squeezing around his waist. Thomas kissed him hard, crotch pressing up against his own and James moaned at the hardness there. It was too easy to get lost in him, the way Thomas was looking at him now, the way his hands curled around James’s hips and to his ass, pulling him into Thomas. He forced himself to break away.

“I need to know,” he said, trying to steady his breathing, eyes closed. He felt Thomas’s hand on his cheek.

“Know what?”

James opened his eyes.

“What you said before, about a future for us,” said James. “Do you still mean that? Tell such a thing is truly possible and I'll believe you."

Thomas smiled. “Yes. I do, and yes, it is. Especially now that I’m making you my new advisor.”

James inhaled sharply, lips parted. Thomas’s smile widened. His hand stayed on James’s cheek, thumb brushing against his lips.

“I’m putting it in the letter to England. Tell me James, what was your name before you came here?”

“McGraw. James McGraw.”

“Beautiful,” breathed Thomas. “So McGraw it shall be again.”

James’s lips crashed into his, arms pulling Thomas impossibly close. They grinded against each other, until James felt the blood fill his cock and pound in his ears. Thomas began taking his shirt off.

“I want you to fuck me,” he said. “Right here in this room.”

That caught him by surprise. Thomas, he’d assumed, was always a top. But the thought of taking Thomas made his cock ache even more. He moved to take off his coat but Thomas halted him.

“No. I want you like this, just like this. Still fresh from the battle.”

Blue eyes roamed hungrily over his form and the feeling of being desired like this made James want to weep. He wondered if he'd ever get used to it. Eagerly Thomas pulled him over to the cabin’s small bed attached to the wall. He peeled off his boots and his breeches, leaving only a white pair of stockings on just below his knees. They accentuated his calves and the curve of the muscle there and James refused to let him take them off. Thomas lay down on the bunk and James watched in fascination as he reached down between his thighs and opened himself. James unfastened his trousers and freed his cock, stroking it as he watched. He felt his eyes grow heavy.

“Now please,” said Thomas in a whisper.

James fell to a knee between Thomas’s legs. Jesus Christ, he was beautiful like this, white stockings against his creamy but muscular skin, cock straight up against his belly. James, fully clothed save for his cock, leaned over him to kiss his chest, his tongue and thumbs flicking over his nipples until they were peaked. He spit over his cock and slickened it, rubbing it over Thomas’s hole.

“Yes, just like this,” cooed Thomas, eyes thirsty as they drank in James's form.

James pushed Thomas’s legs back towards his chest, exposing his hole more. He groaned at the sight, working two fingers in to make sure. Thomas gasped, whining as James wiggled his fingers around. James bit his own bottom lip, pulling on his cock as he hooked his fingers inside Thomas, savoring the tight heat there and the whimper that issued from the blonde's lips.

With trembling fingers James took hold of himself and pushed in, pushing back the sides of the Spanish coat. They both shivered and moaned as he slowly filled Thomas. James could scarcely believe how amazing Thomas felt as his cock penetrated him, enclosing him in tight slick.

“Oh fuck, please,” cried Thomas, eyes screwed shut and face flushed rosy.

From this angle James could fuck him deep. He spread his legs and went down on his knees. Without meaning to, his forehead brushed against Thomas’s. He pressed them together, one hand coming up to cradle Thomas’s head. He drove his cock in.

Thomas was open-mouthed, blissful expression making James fuck him in earnest. He could feel Thomas’s cock slap against his stomach with each thrust. Thomas wrapped around him so good he was beside himself in minutes.

His cock pulsed with want as Thomas lay prone under him, able to do little more than moan and pant. James kissed him, tongue driving in as his cock did the same. He pulled out almost all the way before driving in deep again, balls against skin as Thomas’s sounds became high-pitched.

“All right?” he managed to ask at one point.

Thomas nodded almost vehemently. His fingers dug into James’s scalp.

“More.”

James groaned and fucked him faster, the push and pull of his cock making the bed creak under them. If anything it added to his arousal. He rolled his hips, determined to feel Thomas in every way he could. Eager for more contact, Thomas pulled him down and James fell into him, his head in the crook of Thomas’s neck.

The feel of having Thomas this way was beyond everything he’d hoped for. His body seemed to hum in agreement as he felt his blood rise.

“We fit perfectly,” Thomas said into his ear.

James raised his head, jade eyes glittering and nearly black as he thrusted inside Thomas and devoured his mouth in agreement. He was approaching the edge fast now.

He pressed their foreheads together again, both sweaty. Thomas clung to him, trying to buck up to meet his demand. James’s eyes rolled back momentarily.

“Oh god, oh fuck,” he heard himself say, voice thick and low.

Thomas’s heat was never-ending. He contracted around James’s cock and James felt strong flutters building and roiling in his gut, his cock screaming for release.

“More please, more,” Thomas begged him again. James fucked him until the only sound was of flesh against flesh and hot breaths rolling on top of one another. His orgasm rose deep in his gut, roiled and teased him for what seemed like ages.

“Oh fuck James, you’re going to make me come,” Thomas panted out in short, quick breaths.

The words made his climax inevitable.

“Can I…come inside you?” he asked into Thomas’s open mouth, barely able to speak.

Thomas could only nod. Their breaths came out in unison to the constant push and pull of James’s cock inside him. He watched Thomas let out a wail as he came, thick white honey spurting out from his cock. James groaned loudly, fucking him without control now. He saw stars dance behind his eyelids, crying out as he emptied inside Thomas. He grinded his cock deep inside, moaning. In a sex-stupid haze, he bent down and lapped up both their juices from Thomas's stomach, moving down to suck at the tip of Thomas’s cock and pullling out the last of him while Thomas panted and moaned above him.

*

As both their bodies came down in the immediate aftermath, Thomas looked at him with concern. He rubbed a hand tenderly over James’s arm.

“You’re shaking. What’s the matter?”

He was--a slight tremble in his limbs. But it was not from anything amiss. Quite the opposite, in fact.

“I’m more than all right,” James assured him, managing a smile. “I did not know…it was possible to feel this…strongly with anyone,” he began feebly, unsure how else to say it. “To feel this happy, and this committed to someone as I do you.”

Thomas let out a sigh, eyes growing glazed again.

“I’m sure I understand,” he said in a silken tone. He propped himself up on an elbow, expression turning wry.

“Did we just get married?”

James chuckled.

“I think so.”

*

In the following days Governor Hamilton did all he had promised. He presented a gathering of Nassau’s pirates—including Vane, Silver, and Rackham—with his proposal for the new pardons and the very-detailed story of Woodes Rogers’ deception and betrayal. James had grinned haughtily when even the rhetorically savvy Jack was impressed with Thomas’s methods of written persuasion. Even James had to let his usual cynicism fall by the wayside. He had great hopes that even the giant island he so despised now would see nothing but the profits of Thomas’s work here, and that the soon-to-be pardoned pirates would only add to those profits. It was a win-win.

Of course it was not all ideal. James had spoke to Vane and Silver and then to Thomas, letting him know that neither captain—nor some others—intended to quit piracy. The stipulation was that they could do whatever they wished away from New Providence, and what Governor Hamilton did not know about was none of his concern or responsibility unless told otherwise.

Still there were quite a number of pirates—many of them older or handicapped—who graciously accepted the pardons in full. Thomas offered them new jobs in further building and restoring Nassau, paying them well.

In addition, Max was to remain madame of the brothel-house. Thomas also supplied her with three of his best guards to help her with any troublemakers who might threaten her ladies there, or to help “oversee the operation,” as he had coyly put it to her with a grin. In exchange, Max’s little birds also gave Thomas information about shipments and goods and crews coming in and out of port.

James stayed busy assisting the governor, taking charge of strengthening the fort and presenting him with the first full map of New Providence in recent memory. He also kept piracy in check. Pirated goods still found their way to Nassau, but James made sure their deliverers kept a low profile so as not to attract the eye of England again.

Within a year there were more respectable townsfolk from elsewhere arriving to help colonize the island. One even wrote a letter addressed to the governor, requesting a chance to meet him when the ship she sailed on arrived.

James joined him under a makeshift tent that day, watching as a slew of new citizens arrived off the docks.

"Did she describe herself at all?" James asked, scanning the disembarking throng of people and luggage.

Thomas shook his head.

"Aside from stating she is a widow roughly of our age, no."

Then a woman broke away from the crowd, approaching them with two heavy bags in either hand. Thomas rose and bowed as she approached.

"Governor Hamilton?" she asked, setting down her bags.

Thomas and James both bowed.

"Yes ma'am," said Thomas. "And this is my advisor, James McGraw."

The woman took in them both in a rather bold way, James thought, her smile bright and warm to match her hazel eyes.

"Are you the author of this letter?" asked Thomas, holding up the paper in question.

"I am," answered the woman. "Apologies if it seemed strange, but I'd like to know the character of the man--" She glanced at James in a way that made him blush inexorably, "--or _men_ I who are responsible for my living space. I'm Miranda Barlow. Pleased to make your acquaintence."

END.


End file.
